A Flicker in the Dark
by cube V
Summary: A mysterious woman suffering from amnesia saves the life of a strange man in danger. Upon further run-ins her suspicions of the man increase until she believes he may be the key to unlocking her past. But will he be willing to endanger his own life to help a mysterious woman? AU.
1. Overconfidence

A/N: So first off I want to say that I'm going to try my VERY hardest to finish this fic. I have the first three chapters practically done, just need to review them again. But ever since I began this crazy addiction to GrimmNel *drools* I've been so angry with how every author starts writing a fic and never finishes it! Anyways this fic is AU, I haven't give the city they live in a name yet but its coastal, tropical-like climate. I promise longer chapters in the future, and hope that this motivates other people to write/finish GrimmNel fics.

* * *

Anyways.. On with the show. And oh yeah, Bleach and its characters do not belong to me.

The rooftops in town offered no shield from the incoming rain clouds and the howling winds. There he stood on a nearby building hugging the ten times taller skyscraper that his eyes lingered on. The moon hung low in the sky tonight, illuminating the mask that adorned his face. It resembled the skull of a fierce cat-like creature with a psychotic grin. Tendrils of blue hair poked out from underneath the white hood of his jacket. The toes of his shoes hung off the edge of the tall building as if daring the wind to fling him into the murky depths below. His hands shoved deep into his pockets, he knew no fear. He closed his eyes and reveled in the events that had taken place in the last few hours.

His job was simple. Sneak in, steal some files off of the CEO's computer, then sneak out. Of course if he had it his way he'd just barge through the front door and welcome any opponent he could bloody up, sneaking was never his style. Although, completing the job did reap its reward, which in turn was a far more powerful than the fleeting excitement of defeating opponents. Oh no, he was toppling an entire corporation.

A loud clang rang out below him followed by voices muffled by the howling wind. His eyes shot open and searched for the source of all the noise. The wind was louder now and much more violent then seconds before, the storm was almost upon him. He crouched down on his perch, his blue eyes following two black figures. He watched as the figure on the left clicked on a flashlight and forced the masked man to squint to see what he was pointing the damned light at.

_"Shit," _he thought to himself, his eyes widened and he instinctively took a few steps backwards away from the edge, _"Fucking security..."_

Like a panther hunting in the wild, he set his hungry eyes on the smaller building below him. With a running start he jumped to the adjacent building, his body tucking itself into a ball as he flew between the buildings. He landed on his toes and did not stop to take a break from running. He reached the southern side of the rooftop and swung himself expertly onto the fire escape. He crawled down the ladder with the agility and silence of a spider. He could hear the voices better now that the buildings were blocking the wind from reaching his ears. Rain had begun to fall from the sky; the clouds tucked themselves around the moon as if afraid to shroud its divine light.

"Whaddya think's in it?" He heard one of the figures say as he made his way down the ladder.

With that he leaped off of the ladder, the ground still being a ways away. He had to reach the package before either security guard saw what was in it, or else he would have to kill them, which he would probably have to kill them anyways. His desperation was ever apparent now as he grunted loudly when his feet landed hard on the pavement.

He heard a sickening crack and felt his right ankle buckle beneath him. He didn't have time for careless mistakes; he ran around the side of the building without as much as a limp in his step. Without even bothering to check around the corner, he leapt out at the man clad in black with the flashlight. He pulled a small throwing knife from the inside of his hoodie and let it fly. The man fell to the ground with a thud of his body meeting the pavement. The masked man turned around to see a frightened security guard pressing a blinking button on his belt.

"W-Who are you?" the security guard stammered looking at the electric blue eyes that burned holes through the sadistic looking mask.

The security guard who looked as if he was only a boy was now backing himself into a wall, with his gun shaking violently in his hand.

The masked man walked nonchalantly over to the child, and placed a gloved hand on the gun that was now shaking wildly, making an irritating clanking sound. His merciless blue eyes looked up from the boy's gun, piercing through the rain and directly into the beady terrified eyes before him.

He shouldn't have answered but he felt the elation of power tugging at his nerves. He couldn't help himself.

"Grimmjow" he answered the smirk under the mask evident in his voice, before taking the gun from the boy and tossing it to the ground. Grimmjow grasped the boy by his neck and drug his body up the wall until the security guard boots were no longer grounded. He placed a throwing knife at the boy's neck, and watched as his blood began too ooze out, staining his uniform.

Grimmjow's eyes glinted with excitement as he watched the life leave the security guards body. His grip loosened and he dropped him unceremoniously onto the pavement.

"Tch, the cleanup team is not going to be happy about this…" Grimmjow said aloud gazing at the two bodies. He walked over to the package he was so worried about them rummaging through, and slung it over his shoulder. He readjusted his mask and tugged the hood of his jacket forward to make sure he was secured. He walked over to the first security guard and plucked his throwing knife from the man's bloodied neck.

Grimmjow stood there for a moment, allowing the rain to cleanse the blood off his blade, a loud noise sounded off followed by a piercing pain erupting from his right thigh. Grimmjow knew this pain, he had been shot. He quickly turned his head and looked behind him to find two other security guards, with their guns pointed directly at his masked head. _"What the hell? More security_?" He thought to himself.

He grasped his leg and grunted lowly.

"I suggest you put your hands up and get down on your knees if you don't want me to blow a hole in that mask of yours," The closer security guard said confidently.

Grimmjow smirked under his mask and lowered himself to his knees and raised his hands in the air. He was careful with his right ankle knowing he couldn't place too much pressure on it. The overconfident security guard strode towards Grimmjow and stood directly in front of him with his gun resting on the bony surface of the mask.

"I'd have half a mind to blow your fucking brains out right now for killing two of my men," he glanced back to look at the lifeless bodies behind him.

"Bad move," Grimmjow said lowly without giving the guard another chance.

He took the opening and grabbed the security guard's wrist and twisted it painfully. The loud cracking sound was followed by the clatter of his gun hitting the ground. Grimmjow jumped up carefully placing most of his weight on his left foot and kicked the gun out into the street. He figured he was going to have to rely mostly on his upper body since his right leg and ankle were basically out of commission. He ducked below the security guard's punch and brought his elbow around and connected it with his gut. He quickly brandished a small dagger and stabbed the man in the chest as he bent forward to clutch his stomach.

Grimmjow grabbed the security guards body and used it as a shield from the incoming bullets being shot in his direction. He ran around the corner of the building back to where the fire escape was and dropped the dead body. He had to think fast, he peered around the corner to find four black figures inching towards his hiding spot. He quickly jerked his head back behind the wall to dodge the barrage of bullets. Grimmjow reached into the left side of his hoodie and pulled out a small spherical object. He placed one hand on the top and the other on the bottom and twisted in opposite directions. He quickly rolled the object like a bowling ball towards the security guards. When it tapped the nearest security guard's boot a large cloud of smoke was emitted.

Grimmjow heard the men grunting and coughing and dove into the cloud of smoke.

The object was designed to create a puff of smoke, just to get the upper hand on a battle. Unlike other smoke bombs that lasted for a while and used mostly for retreating, the object that was now filling the alley with smoke was used simply as an offensive weapon.

His blade still out he cut down the first man he could sense. The smoke was beginning to lift and Grimmjow could see two other men in the distance but the third was nowhere to be found. Before he had a chance to move he felt the butt of a gun connect with the back of his head. Grimmjow's head smacked the cement and his eyes began to blur. He was slipping into unconsciousness and he knew there wasn't much he could do.

Grimmjow watched through blurry eyes as his attacker came around and joined the two other security guards before him.

"Should we kill him?" A squeaky voice said, "He could still be a serious threat…"

"But if we kill him we might never know if or who he might be working for," said a deeper voice.

Grimmjow raised his eyes to the man who had practically knocked him unconscious, and who was now striding over to him.

The man fisted Grimmjow's jacket and brought his gun to his heart, "He doesn't deserve to live," the man's raspy voice reached his ears, "The captain wouldn't accept it."

Grimmjow watched through the rain and the fog of his oncoming unconsciousness as the man's finger went for the trigger. He raised his eyes to look directly into his killer's. He would not fear dying, it was not in his nature and he refused to look away from it.

_"Why are my ears ringing?" _Grimmjow's eyebrows knitted together in thought until his eyes followed the trail of smoke to the gun pointing to the sky.

_"What the hell?"_He thought to himself, his eyes moved further down to find a small delicate hand wrapped around the black gloved wrist holding the gun. The moon gave her its light and the rain it's water to make this _creature_ look divine. She practically sparkled and glowed in the storm of the night. Her teal hair was weighed down by the rain but still held a natural wave. The violent wind whipped her white dress about her thighs.

"The fuck?" Grimmjow grunted. He was the farthest person from being superstitious or religious, but when he saw this woman clad in a dress, standing before him, fending off a man twice her size, he found it unexplainable.

His attacker's hand could no longer hold on to the gun from her bone-shattering grip. It fell to the ground with a clatter and she said nothing as she spun around and kicked the man on the right side of his face. She took no time to observe his demise on the ground. She only needed to hear the sound of his head hitting the wall and the loud crack of his neck twisting at an unnatural angle to know he was finished. She pushed herself forward at speeds Grimmjow's eyes could barely keep up with. She could fight with the nimbleness of a dancer as well as the ferocity of a boxing champion. In a flash of green she appeared behind a security guard and quickly broke his neck without the slightest change in her facial features or demeanor. The third security guard hurdled himself at her but she simply stepped to the side and brought her fist into his spine in a boxing stance. She placed her knee on the small of his back and gripped his head in her hands and twisted.

For a moment she stayed in the same position, her head hung low, seeming as if the rain was weighing her down. Her unmarred hands ran over her dress as if trying to straighten out the already perfect fabric. She stood erect and strode towards Grimmjow's body lying on the pavement. The moonlight lit up her face and Grimmjow fought for consciousness as he studied it. Her face was a slab of marble, unmoving and emotionless. He looked at her eyes; they were a greyish-hazel tone that glowed in the night. He couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. In their depths they flashed the experience of a trained killer, but something else was there, something that stirred in the pit of Grimmjow's stomach. It was a feeling both unfamiliar and unwelcome.

His eyes went dark and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.


	2. Assumptions

**Disclaimer: Bleach would be a P.O.S. if I owned it, that's why I don't.**

Rain drops graced the tips of her eye lashes and caressed the softness of her cheeks while she peered down at the masked man lying unconscious on the ground. She had dragged his body around the corner of the building, rolled him over and cradled his head in her lap.

The teal-haired woman yanked the hood of his jacket down and was greeted with a bright shade of sky blue. She felt a sudden urge to run her fingers through his thick locks but mentally slapped herself, this was not the time.

Her fingers began to work on their own accord, first carefully pulling the package off of him and setting it aside. She shifted him into a sitting position and unzipped his jacket and removed it from his body. She instinctively turned the jacket inside out, revealing its black interior.

As she carefully dressed him in his jacket, she began to mutter to the man before her, "Too destructive…" she murmured while placing his arms inside the now black jacket, "You could have easily handled them if you held your cool…" She zipped up the front of his jacket, "You let your emotions and overconfidence take control." She replaced the package gently over his shoulder.

She then proceeded to unclasp the buckle on the back of his head to take the mask off of the mysterious man. When the clasp was free, delicate fingers snaked under the mask and lifted.

She didn't bother to look at his face; she could not afford any distractions, she had to clear out in case anyone was still on patrol.

She looked at the creepy mask she now held in her hand, "Where the hell am I gonna put this?" She shrugged and shoved it down the front of the de-masked man's pants. She stifled a giggle at the thought of doing something so forward to an unconscious man. She pulled his hood back over his hair and repositioned his jacket to cover the mask peeking out of the top of his pants.

He no longer looked scary; well, except for the bleeding wound from his outer thigh. With her back facing him, she kneeled and grasped his arms and threw them over her shoulders.

"It's going to be a _long_ walk home…" she grunted, grasping his thighs and heaving his body weight onto her back. Once she became accustomed to the extra weight she started walking the backstreets home.

After a few minutes she started to feel fatigued, "Maybe we should take the bus," she muttered to the unresponsive man on her back.

The rain was now only drizzling as she trudged past a small alleyway, "Hm… and what would I say to the bus driver…" She rose the pitch of her voice, "'Oh don't worry about him; he just got too drunk and shot himself in the leg! He does this all the time!"

"Talking to yourself again, Master Nel?" said a voice from the dark alleyway.

She jumped at the sound and almost dropped the injured man. Looking down the dark corridor, she saw two figures coming towards her, "Pesche? Dondochakka?" she questioned in the direction.

A lanky blonde-haired man and a stubby brunette stepped out from the shadows, both with goofy grins plastered on their faces, "Looks like you've got a pretty big package, where ya takin' him?" Pesche questioned.

"Well," Nel began but then interrupted herself, "—wait! What are you guys doing here?! Were you two following me?!"

Dondochakka spoke up this time, "Uh, well we were worried."

Nel frequently left the house and wandered off. She would walk for hours and always end up in the same place, a _familiar _place. Although she did this quite often, her two friends could not help worrying about her when she hadn't returned for hours. They would often tail her or at least try to stay in range of her… ever since the incident.

Nel sighed loudly and shifted the man on her back, "Well… since you're here, why don't you guys carry him then? I'm tired."

Pesche laughed at Nel, "Nel you've been walking for MAYBE five minutes," he laughed, "It's okay though we drove here."

"Thank God! He's SO heavy," Nel whined and felt his left foot twitch and kick her in the ass, "Hey!" she grumbled at the blue-haired man on her back.

The two men snickered as they walked her through the alley towards the parked car.

Nel cleared her throat loudly reminding them that she was carrying a fully grown man. Dondochakka turned on his heel and slid the mysterious man's slack body from her back. He slung him over his chubby shoulder and continued walking.

Nel stretched her back and sighed appreciatively, "Thanks."

Pesche broke the silence as they walked sluggishly towards the car, "So," he began prodding the unconscious man at a 'safe' distance, "Who is this dude… Not that I'm really good with names anyway…"

Nel slapped his hand away from the unconscious man with a glare, "I don't know, we'll speak about it when we get home."

"Home?! We're taking this strange man to our HOME?!" Dondochakka looked at Nel crazily.

Nel threw her hands in the air, "Where else would I take him?! He's unconscious and bleeding from a gunshot wound—"

Nel was cut off by Pesche's voice, "GUNSHOT WOUND?" he screamed like a girl. They were now standing outside of the black car, "What the hell's going on?!"

Nel slapped both of her friends in the heads and snatched the keys out of Pesche's hands, "Agh, Shut up you two! I don't know what's going on either obviously… HE'S UNCONSCIOUS! And if you haven't noticed he's not exactly much of a talker right now!" She flung the car door open and motioned for Dondochakka to put him in the backseat.

After a moment of placing the man carefully inside the car, Dondochakka reappeared outside of the car door. He glanced at Nel to see her eyes closed and pinching the skin between her eyebrows, "All I know… is that somehow seeing him tonight, the way he was dressed, the location, the mask, _everything_… it all feels… very vaguely _familiar_."

Both Dondochakka and Pesche glanced at Nel knowing very well what she meant by _familiar_, "So you think this guy can help you?" Pesche said without thinking.

"I don't know," she muttered as she slid herself into the driver's seat, "Now get in the car you two its nearly one in the morning we still have about a thirty minute drive."

Both began scrambling into the car, fighting over who would sit in the front seat and who would sit with the unconscious murderer, as they were now calling him. Nel was practically banging her head against the steering wheel and yelled at Pesche to sit in the back since Dondochakka had to carry the 'murderer' to the car.

They drove home with Pesche and Dondochakka making up stories about the injured man, and what he might have been doing. Nel was so lost in thought she never really heard them… or really even remembered driving home.

* * *

Grimmjow's blurry eyes opened slowly to find himself in a room that definitely wasn't his, unless his friends were playing a sick prank on him. He looked at the plain white walls and the black curtains that hung from the windows. His calloused hands gripped and pressed the lavender sheet that swaddled him up to his nose and inhaled its flowery _womanly_ scent.

_"What happened last night?" _His head felt heavy and cumbersome, he closed his eyes trying to remember, _"Did I drink too much?"_

His eyes sluggishly took in the room, the door to the bathroom hung open and a white dress rested on the door handle. His eyes ran down its short length and were met by a red stain in the center of its back. He was really confused now, his mind lingered on the idea that maybe he had just had some really crazy sex or something. He shoved the idea away, knowing that there would be no amount of alcohol that would make him want his lover to bleed profusely.

His curious eyes began to wander again and he found his clothes sitting on a black dresser on his right. His jacket was folded nicely, and he noticed it was turned inside out. Grimmjow was familiar with the reversible jacket, on the job it was to be worn white facing out, after the task is completed the jacket should be reversed with black facing out, for easy retreat and disguise. It was protocol. But what was it doing here? His blue eyes shifted and widened a little at the mask resting next to the neatly folded clothes. He closed his eyes trying to think of what the hell happened.

His head was beginning to throb, when he felt something shift next to him.

His eyelids lifted and he turned his aching head to his left.

His eyes landed on a thin woman lying before him. Her body rested on top of the covers as if she had accidentally fallen asleep there. Her teal locks fell around her face and clashed against the bright magenta tattoo spanned across her cheeks and nose. Her full lips were parted slightly and he could barely make out the sounds of her even breathing. His roving eyes inspected her body, she was wearing a thin yellow tank top and a pair of blue faded cotton shorts that fit snuggly on her voluptuous frame. He continued his inspection, his eyes caressing her silky long legs. She made a faint sound in her sleep and rolled onto her back. He felt like a pervert, staring at her breasts swaying with the sudden movement while she was not awake.

He sensed movement in his peripheral and his eyes shot up to her face. Her eyes fluttered open, becoming accustomed to the morning light seeping in through the blinds. Her hand subconsciously pushed the hair out of her face revealing a large scar between her eyes. Grimmjow's eyes widened _"The hell happened there?"_ he thought. As her gaze locked on to his, he remembered her cold eyes that gleamed in the night.

His curious face transformed into an angry glare. Her eyes had brought back the memories of the night before.

"Why did you interfere with my hunt?" He blurted out to the woman lazily stretching before him.

She sat up now and he watched her walk over to the suede lavender chair in the corner of the room, "Hunt?" she questioned in a curious voice that he could not believe belonged to such a powerful woman.

"Yes, you took down _my prey_," he said sitting up, ignoring the spinning of his head, "I didn't need your help, woman." He said angrily.

She threw her legs over the arm of the chair and leaned back against the head rest and closed her eyes, "So you run around… in a cat mask… hunting… people? I'm starting to wonder if I should have dropped you off at the psychiatric ward…" She crossed her dangling legs over each other, unbothered by his fuming presence. "I get it… you're delusional and think you're a wild _kitty_." She opened her left eye to taunt him.

"Shut the fuck up! I am not a _kitty! _It's a PANTHER and I had everything under control!" He yelled, his voice confident, although he knew he hadn't.

She smiled and picked up a strand of her hair to play with, "Calm down, I was just kidding. You really let your emotions get the better of you… don't you?"

He rolled his eyes and ripped the covers off of his own body. He realized he was only in his boxers and wife beater. He was going to question what the hell she had done to him until his eyes caught the expertly wrapped bandage around his thigh.

He looked up at the woman sitting in the corner, "I hope you didn't take me to a damn hospital."

"My instincts told me whatever you were doing wasn't legal," She stood and walked over to the bathroom and pulled her dress off of the door knob to inspect the blood stain on it, "So I patched you up and took care of it. Luckily the bullet only grazed your outer thigh, and your other injuries were minor enough to not pose much of a dilemma."

He nodded, "Were there more guards after I passed out?" He cringed at the idea of him passing out. "_How weak,"_ he thought to himself.

"Are you referring to the stain on my favorite dress?" She held it up and he nodded. "Oh no, that was all you, I had to carry you on my back."

It was hard to picture himself, twice the size of this woman, being carried on her back. Which reminded him… "Who the hell are you?"

He noticed her body stiffen and her gaze drop to the floor. Her eyes knit together as if she were trying to remember something important. Her hands clenched the dress she held tightly as if trying to wring the answer out of its stained cloth.

She brought her gaze back up to his, "Neliel Tu Oderschvank."

Her gaze fell back to the floor; he had to choose his next words carefully. He suspected she may be working for an enemy organization but didn't want to give out too many details of who he was or worked for.

"So where did a tiny thing like you learn to fight?"

She glanced up at the blue-haired man standing before her, choosing her words wisely as well, "Ever since I can remember I've had these skills."

"Tch, shoulda figured," he mumbled under his breath.

She had heard what he said but chose to ignore it, "Anyways _Ms. Oderschvank,_" he strode over to his clothes, showing no signs of pain or discomfort, "What do you want?"

She stared at him confused, and he elaborated, "You know, for _saving_ me?" He said in a mocking tone.

She pondered for a moment, realizing this was the closest thing to a thank you that she would receive from him, "Nothing."

He rolled his eyes and bent over to pull his black jeans onto his legs. Nel watched as the muscles in his back rippled with his movements and his ass tightened as he slipped each leg carefully into his jeans. When he turned back around to face her he realized she had been peeping at him.

"Enjoying the show?" he said flexing a naked bicep and raising an eyebrow.

He expected her to at least blush, maybe stutter a little bit, or turn her gaze away from him, something along those lines. Instead she just smirked at his display and raised a brow at him, "Well I suppose I am" she admitted, "But I guess that makes two of us," she said referring to the perverted eyes he gave her chest that morning.

He was shocked by how quick she was, but didn't let her know that. He just pulled his jacket on, "Can ya blame me?" His perverted gaze fell back on her chest as he grabbed the rest of his belongings.

She rolled her eyes and changed the subject, "We're pretty far from where you were last night, do you need a ride somewhere?"

He shook his head, "Nah, I'll catch a cab."

She strode to the door of her bedroom and opened it for him. She directed him through the hall and to the stairs. As they walked down, both heads shot up at the clang of pots and pans and hushed voices.

Pesche looked over at the two coming down the stairs and whispered, quite loudly, to Dondochakka, "IT'S THE MURDERER!"

Dondochakka replied with a wooden spoon in his hand, "QUICK, HIDE!"

Both brothers had placed pots on their heads for… protection, and dove behind the kitchen counters. They both raised their heads enough to allow them to watch the blue-haired man stare at them as he and Neliel reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Do you think he can see us?" Pesche whispered loudly again.

Grimmjow gazed at the two idiots, and then looked back at Nel.

"I'm not gonna even ask," he said as Nel directed him towards the front door.

"Good idea," she said to him as they reached the door.

She opened it for him and he walked out of it holding his hand in the air as if saying goodbye. She leaned on the door frame and called out to the mysterious man, "You never told me your name," she said, crossing her arms under her breasts.

She rolled her eyes at him when she found his perverted gaze locked on her braless chest. He managed to raise his eyes to hers and smirked, "Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, look me up if you want to act on that favor I offered." He added with a devilish wink.

She smiled and said, "Well then, see you around," she grasped the handle of the door, "Mr. Jaegerjaquez," and closed it.

* * *

When Nel retreated back into her house, she threw herself onto the living room couch. Both Dondochakka and Pesche sat in front of the T.V. playing a multiplayer video game. They were still wearing the pots on their heads like a couple of idiots, and she smirked at that.

The loud sounds coming from the T.V. and the bickering between the two men stopped, forcing Nel to open her eyes.

"So did you find anything out?" Dondochakka asked a tired-looking Nel.

She sighed, "Well… not really, I mean I kind of didn't even bother… But…" She trailed off gazing at the high ceiling.

Pesche became impatient, "But…?" He questioned both men scooting closer to Nel.

Her eyes hardened but did not remove themselves from the ceiling, "I got his name."

"His name?" Both Dondochakka and Pesche questioned. "How is a name going to help you remember who you are?" Only Dondochakka asked.

Nel sighed and closed her eyes, "I don't know… with his name I could find out who he is and who he works for…"

"How do you know he even gave you his real name?" Pesche asked hurriedly.

Before Nel could reply Dondochakka questioned, "And why not interrogate him? Wouldn't that be easier?"

Nel sat up and looked both boys in the eyes, "Well for one, he didn't seem like the type to lie. He's too proud and too confident to lie. Or so I assume."

Pesche began to mutter something along the lines of what assuming meant but Nel cut him off with a glare and finished speaking, "Seeing that this Grimmjow character is a combat-trained assassin, and somehow I also possess these skills, it makes me think that I once worked for a similar or possibly the same corporation. Unfortunately since I apparently kept you two out of my business life, all we can go on is what you both saw that night. Someone sought me out and gravely injured me, _no_, attempted to _murder _me. So therefore right now whoever attempted to murder me, whether it be my own corporation or an enemy corporation, may very well think I am dead. So I feel that I should keep a very low profile until I've done proper and careful research, for example researching a name on the internet. You understand?"

Both Dondochakka and Pesche nodded, dumbfounded. Nel had always been many steps ahead of them in foresight and logic.

Pesche leaned his back on the couch thinking over what Nel said, "But, Master Nel," Nel looked over to Pesche, who was staring off in space, "When you said that you didn't believe this guy was lying, does that mean you trust him?"

Nel hung upside down on the couch, looking at the upside down T.V. that displayed the word 'PAUSE', "I wouldn't say I trust him…" Nel picked up a tendril of her hair and stared at it cross-eyed, "But glimpsing his personality in the short amount of time I spoke with him, it seems he isn't much of a group-oriented person, as well he doesn't seem like he's never broken a rule before in his life. So if he does work for some corporation, since I can't imagine he breaks into corporate offices with mysterious packages and kills security guards for the sole purpose of fun, then I would assume if I had to trust anyone he would be my best bet." Nel released the strand of hair from her fingertips, "But like I said I don't quite trust him yet, that's why I'm going to be carefully researching."

Dondochakka huffed, "So we're basing this all off of assumptions?"

Nel rolled over and strode towards the kitchen, "Don't really have much of a choice now, do we?"

**A/N: Next chapter will be up very soon, almost finished writing it, Hope it's been decent so far c: Criticism is always welcome.**


	3. The Hunt Begins

Hello Hello! So if you didn't read my update previously, my computer broke awhile back, I was supposed to get the data transferred but I wanted to write this story so bad that I couldn't wait any longer! So here it is! Oh and one quick thing, if you don't know what the Aspects of Death are then wiki it! An example would be Tier Halibel, the third Espada has Sacrifice as her Aspect of Death. Anywaaaaaaayyyyys, please criticism is welcome and enjoy! Oh and review cause you know it makes me feel like a unicorn and stuff.

Disclaimer: Don't own bleach, bitches!

* * *

Grimmjow had to admit he barely felt any sort of pain in his leg, it was like the head surgeon of Las Noches had fixed him up. He grimaced at the thought. Although he wouldn't mind a hurt leg if he could get his damn head ache to go away. The sounds of his boots padding on the pavement reached his ears and he realized how quiet it was in this area of town. It appeared to be the outskirts of the city but only a mile or so out. In the distance he could still hear the faded honking and bustle of the city.

He made it a good distance from the strange woman's house before sitting down on a bench and calling his cab. His hands were absent-mindedly soothing the skin that was wrapped up underneath his pants.

The sun rested high in the sky, it must have been almost noon, and the black hoodie he was wearing made him uncomfortably hot. The sound of a small dog barking reached his ears and he turned to see a plump woman walking an animal too tiny to be considered a dog by Grimmjow's standards, the sound of her heels clacking resonating in his ears.

Grimmjow was tempted to scream just to fill the silence, he couldn't stand the lack of noise, it was driving him mad. Each sound was amplified and seemed to bounce around in his skull. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it as he glanced around, realizing that he actually recognized the area.

His buddy, Shawlong Kufang owned an estate not far from here. He exhaled a puff of smoke and gazed down the street to see a familiar plaza on the corner. A home made sign hung in the window of the building closest to him with a detailed schedule of times and instructors for yoga classes. He rolled his eyes at the expense of a worsening headache.

When the taxi arrived Grimmjow threw his cigarette on the ground and smashed it with the toe of his boot. He climbed in, only to be greeted with scent of old Indian food and B.O., he relayed his address to the driver and sat back.

Rolling down the window, he hoped a little fresh air would air out the cab of the horrid concoction of smells. It seemed to work for a little while. That was, until they reached the inner city, where the toxic exhaust fumes seemed to meddle with the aroma of the taxi creating something... vile.

The headache was unrelenting and only seemed to become stronger. He'd been experiencing pretty frequent headaches as of late. He figured that disgusting smells probably weren't helping it either.

He ignored the mumbling of the driver, and laid his head against the window, maybe if he closed his eyes it would subside.

Something was burning. He always had trouble remembering what was burning. Everything was red, burning, scorching, bloody red. The lids of his eyes opened on their own, refusing to obey him and stay shut. He was laying down on his stomach, in a field of grass. Like grass that you would lay down with someone and watch the clouds float by in the summer. Grass, like the kind you'd play tag on. But it was eerie, discolored, red hues fell upon it making it sinister. In that moment he pushed his body away from the grass just to distance himself from its wretchedness.

He was standing. Staring. The grass stretched and stretched, and he had to get away. He ran. His head jerked backwards involuntarily. His body felt like a caged animal, trying to find an escape. When his body turned back around he was faced with the root.

Flames. Dancing about as if they weren't aware of their own killing intent. Flirting with the very grass beneath them, till only ash remained. Hugging the wooden support beams, until they crumbled in its embrace. Licking the walls with such ferocity they merely vanished.

The flames remained when the building no longer did. They roared and grew larger with out something to embrace. They grew out of control until everything was consumed.

The fire died and left in its wake the scent of burning wood and flesh.

Grimmjow felt as though his face had been doused in water. His hand reached out to his face feeling for the source. His tracing fingers only led him to his own eyes.

He shut them tight.

When he opened them he was staring blankly at himself.

Dark circles encased blue orbs that no longer had the will to survive. His skin was devoid of color, a lifeless pallor where color once reigned. His hands pushed his sleeves up his arms, revealing the only color that decorated his skin, bruises littered the inside of his forearms.

His body turned shamefully away from the mirror and began walking in a straight line towards a chair that appeared rotted, the cushion was torn and the stuffing was erupting from its confines. He found himself seated on the chair with a belt tightly buckled around his bicep.

He felt the prick of the needle and his eyes went black.

It was then he saw those eyes. Solid and unwavering, staring past his body and into him. They were begging, pleading, but also sorrowful, tired, lonely, guilty...

"HEY! Wake up ya damn junkie!"

Grimmjow opened his eyes and angrily glared at the taxi cab driver, "This aint no damn motel, now get the hell outta my cab ya dopehead!"

Grimmjow's hand surged forward and grasped the man's t-shirt, tugging him so they were nose to nose, "Maybe if you cleaned your damn cab every now and then you wouldn't have your fuckin' customers passin' out in the backseat!"

He pushed the man's chest effectively shoving him into the steering wheel, and threw his fee on the front seat, "And while your at it, do somethin' about that dog shit breath."

Grimmjow kicked the door closed with his foot and lit another cigarette.

He strode through the lobby of his apartment building and into the open elevator.

He clicked his floor number and the elevator doors slid shut. He stood in silence gazing out the glass to a clear view of the bay and inner city. The annoying ding of the elevator signalling it went up a floor brought Grimmjow out of his daze.

It was then he realized that the sound was normal, did not resonate and bounce around inside his head. His head ache was gone.

Stepping out of the elevator, he inserted the key to his penthouse apartment and walked in.

He sniffed the air, glad to find that it smelled like nothing as usual. He threw his keys on a small table in the entry hall. When he entered the living room he half expected to find his friends drunk on his couch watching the game without him.

He was happy to find it empty after the events of the last twenty four hours. He just wanted to relax before he had to go back to work again tonight.

Grimmjow tugged on the door of the fridge which was full of beer, milk, and left over delivery pizza. The essentials. He grabbed a beer and a slice of pizza out of the brown box and kicked the door shut. He jumped over the back of the couch and kicked off his boots.

Flicking the television on he began to devour the cold slice of pizza. The cleaning supplies commercial wasn't exactly holding his interest and his mind began to wander.

For the past year Grimmjow had been experiencing this odd dream. He wasn't superstitious in the slightest, so at first the nightmare had seemed to be just that, a nightmare. In the beginning of the year it had occurred once every month and he thought it odd, but nothing more. Sooner or later it was every week, and now almost every night. Some days he'd make it the whole night, getting a full night, but more often then not, the dream would wake him up with only a few hours.

The game was back on and Grimmjow was torn out of his thoughts. He took a swig of his beer and tried to focus on the score for awhile. When he finished off his beer he sat it on the coffee table.

Grimmjow was pissed. As much as he hadn't wanted to think about it, it kept popping up in his mind. He had almost died last night. By a couple of nobodies. He had looked directly into the man's eyes, he had accepted his fate.

And then... some _woman_ comes in practically flaunting her skills in his face. He found himself... embarrassed for the first time in his life. He had passed out while a _woman_ made short work of a couple of guards.

The worst part was he kept slipping in and out of consciousness. He remembered her speaking to him, her voice was cold, detached and rang with an unfamiliar emotion to Grimmjow.

_As she carefully dressed him in his jacket, she began to mutter to the man before her, "Too destructive…" she murmured while placing his arms inside the now black jacket, "You could have easily handled them if you held your cool…" She zipped up the front of his jacket, "You let your emotions and overconfidence take control." She replaced the package gently over his shoulder._

Sadness? He had wavered between conscious and unconsciousness. Sadness wasn't it. He had realized over the day that it was remorse. Her eyes were piercing with determination but they also glinted with an apology.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes at his own train of thought. Like hell he would let his mind go further into deciphering this mushy bullshit.

Now he was indebted to the bitch.

He rolled over facing away from the T.V. that was now long forgotten. He closed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. Grimmjow decided that since she had given him no way of getting rid of this god forsaken debt he would have to figure one out on his own.

As an arrancar it was his duty to report anything out of the ordinary. Not that he ever really did his duty to the letter, but he thought he'd start out repaying his debt by leaving her existence out of his report to Aizen. Which also meant he'd have to go early and talk to-

His eyes shot open, "Aw, fuck!"

Grimmjow snatched the throw off the back of the couch and buried himself in it. He practically growled in disgust.

He would have to go in early... Which would be a first in his entire year of working at Las Noches. Which was horrid enough, but he was going to have to talk to the most infuriatingly annoying employee in the building... Las Noches' head surgeon. One of the best surgeons in the world, somehow _Lord _Aizen had persuaded her into working for him.

He wanted to stop thinking about his impending doom before he flung himself off his own balcony. He closed his eyes again and decided that he would need some sleep if he was going to deal with Aizen and the crazy bitch.

It was 6:01 PM when he stepped into the elevator. He had slept soundly, since not very often did the wretched dream occur more than once in a twenty four hour period.

He pushed his fingers through his damp blue hair while he stared through the glass of the elevator out to the inner city. His eyes roved over the skyscrapers to pinpoint the very familiar building of Suigetsu Inc. A pale turquoise lily of the valley insignia rested on the upper right hand side of the building. It lit up in the night, making the building very easy to spot.

He made his way out to his garage located on the side of the apartment complex and pressed the correct number pattern on the keypad. The garage door slid open to reveal a spotless black Suzuki Hayabusa with blue trim. An image of cat claws tearing through the surface was painted on the side of the bike.

Living in the city, a speed-bike was practically essential in Grimmjow's mind. The traffic is ridiculous and riding in that stuffy cab today only reminded him of how good of a choice it was to buy the bike.

Unlike his buddy Shawlong, Grimmjow wasn't much for flaunting his money. His apartment was nice but he could afford much higher scale. But when it came to buying a bike... he had to have the best, and it had to look the best.

He climbed on to the bike and peeled out of his garage, pressing the clicker attached to his bike to shut the door.

Grimmjow weaved in and out through traffic trying to focus on driving and not dealing with a bat-shit-crazy surgeon. Around 6:30 he pulled into a large parking garage owned by his boss. Aizen also owned the nearby casino/nightclub, which is why most people used the parking garage.

Grimmjow was convinced that the parking garage was built to ensure Las Noches employees were not connected to the Suigetsu building. Even though Aizen had connections with the police department it would still look suspicious if a whole shit ton of cars were parked outside of Suigetsu all hours of the night.

He parked at the bottom of the garage as usual and made his way to the first vacant elevator. He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to close the doors. He pulled out a card with his name on it and slid it through an unnamed slot near the bottom of the array of buttons.

A portion of of the elevator wall opened revealing a tiny computer screen just big enough for an adult fingertip. He placed his own on its surface and a soft ding sounded in the elevator, followed by the sounds of the elevator beginning to travel downwards.

"Welcome Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, Espada number six. You are riding elevator two, and will be transferred to the corresponding drop off point."

He rolled his eyes, "Why in a million years would someone want a goddamn talking elevator?" he muttered.

Leaning against the wall, Grimmjow realized his headache was clawing its way back into his skull. The doors slid open and he stepped out into an underground lobby that connected to a long hallway.

The decorations were minimal and everything in the room was bleached white. Grimmjow always kind of thought of it as what an asylum would look like. He huffed a sigh and began his trek down the long hall towards the main elevator. The walk was a little hard on his hurt leg but he imagined the psycho surgeon would want to re-bandage him anyways.

He wouldn't have to come in early if he wouldn't have been injured so badly. But he knew that the clean up team would report to Aizen on the dead bodies they found, and Aizen would in turn ask if he had been injured. So instead of lying completely, he'd just cook up some half lie as his good deed for the day.

He would speak with the dreaded woman and get her to agree to lie that she had patched up his wounds, and also the reason that he had to come in early today was for her to re-bandage him.

It seems like a such a petty reason to come in early, but if he didn't make sure all the pieces fit flawlessly, Aizen would figure it out, and if he wanted to pay back his debt he'd start with making sure Aizen didn't know of the green-haired woman's presence last night.

Pressing yet another annoyingly red elevator button, Grimmjow sighed and stepped into the contraption. He pressed his finger onto the pad once more and the computerized elevator greeted him.

"Welcome Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, Espada number six. You are currently on floor zero, please choose your next-"

Grimmjow cut the computer off by pressing the big number four on the keypad. With his headache slowly growing, the sound of the computer's voice made him want to punch something.

"Thank you. You will now be transported to level four, Hospital Wing."

He exited the elevator, ignoring the slight pain in his leg and quickening his pace to distance himself from the talking piece of shit.

Ironically, he was walking towards an even bigger annoyance. No wonder he had headaches all the time, everything in the damn building was an irritation.

He approached a white door with a gold plate on its surface with the name, "Dr. Orihime Inoue," engraved on its surface.

He turned the knob on the door and walked in to see said doctor holding an X-ray to the light, studying its contents, while standing next to a water cooler.

She looked up at Grimmjow's sudden entrance, her eyes softening at the sight of him.

He felt like the idea of flinging himself off his balcony back at home sounded great right about now.

"Well hello Grimmjow." She said walking over to her desk and sitting the x-ray on its surface. She leaned forward a little making sure she was giving him a good shot of her cleavage.

He plopped down in the chair in front of her and propped his feet up on her desk. Wasting no time he began, "So I need a favor, Doc."

He could practically see the excitement and perverted glint rise in her eyes, he resisted the urge to roll his own.

She strode over to the front of the desk and sat down on its edge, folding her arms underneath her breasts, "Well I would just love to do you a favor," She placed a dainty finger on her own lips, "What did you have in mind?"

He could almost laugh out loud at her blatant attraction to him. Normally when a woman was so easy, he would help himself, but lets just say that he had already had a helping. The consequences were pretty bothersome.

They only fucked once, and in his own defense he was drunk. It was at his welcoming party when he had first become Espada number six. After that night he had ignored her, she obviously didn't like that and he had heard that she did a little _favor _for the fourth Espada, Ulquiorra Schiffer, to get his employee records and find his number. She had called him incessantly until he had to make up some lie about how Aizen would be pissed. Still she was pretty unrelenting in her want for him whenever he was present.

He pushed his boots on the desk, tilting the chair back, "So last night I was injured on the job and I'm going to need Aizen to believe that you patched me up at my house last night," He watched her eyes light up with the idea of her at his apartment, "then asked me to come in early today to check up on me."

She snapped herself out of her dream world and walked back over to the water cooler, her back facing him. He could tell she was devising some sort of plan where she could get something out of it. As if on queue, "So if I agree to this what do I get in return?"

She turned to face him, he supposed she was attempting to make some sort of seductive facial expression but she appeared to look more like a retarded bunny rabbit, cute but clueless.

He sighed and stood up, "Out with it, woman." He said placing his arms behind his head

"Well that new night club _The Black Cat_ is opening up this weekend..." She began walking towards him, now standing very close to him, "I'd love to go."

Grimmjow had already planned to go to said club with his friends, Nakeem and Edrad had just gotten hired there to work as bouncers as well. He really didn't want to bring a bitch along when he was out with his buddies, "Well, I'm already going with a couple of friends-"

"Great! You can introduce me!" She slapped his chest, "Oh it'll be so fun, trust me I'm always the life of the party!" She said doing an odd dance move.

He grunted, he was tired of needing favors from people. Maybe he could pawn her off on one of his friends, surely Ylfordt or Di Roy would be dumb enough.

He turned around and started to walk out the door when he heard her call his name. Turning around he saw Dr. Inoue holding some bandages and ointment.

"Oh right," he strode back in and closed the door, taking his pants off and sitting back down.

He would have so much fun teasing the bitch if their weren't such dire consequences in doing so. So the starving looks she gave him as he took off his pants and boots were really, well just like everything else, agitating.

She took off the bandages and inspected the wound, "Oh my goodness, someone shot you!"

"Really?!" He threw his hands to his face dramatically, "Oh my god I didn't even notice! That's whats been hurting!"

She began cleaning the ointment off that was already on the wound, "You must be really tough to not even realize you were shot." She kept darting her eyes to his groin.

He wanted to bang his head on something, but in doing so he would only fuck himself even more. Dr. Inoue would just have one more reason to keep him in her office for further eye-molestation. He doubted that banging his head on anything would help his increasingly painful headache either.

She took some of the old ointment and rolled it between her fingertips, inspecting it. "This ointment is very similar to the stuff I use here. Not as potent but relatively the same."

The ointment was developed in Las Noches by the eighth Espada, Szayel Aporro Granz. It nullified severe pain, and also sped regeneration of tissues to amazing speeds.

She finished applying the ointment and bandages to his leg and he finally escaped her office. Right as he shut her door he was met with Espada number three, Tier Halibel.

"Good evening, Jaegerjaquez. Lord Aizen requests your presence before you make your rounds."

"Gotcha tits. Headin' that way now." He pushed past her and heard her scoff.

She was a much higher rank than him, but Halibel was mostly a pacifist. Or at least she didn't pick many fights. So he used her as an outlet more often than not to get all of his rambunctious attitude out so he could pretend like he was loyal as ever to Lord Aizen.

He had planned on going up to the tech office to get Szayel to hack into the system and make it look like Dr. Inoue left and made a house call last night, but he'd have to save it for afterwards.

Jumping back into the elevator he went down two floors to level six, the meeting room. He stepped out into a one way hallway. He walked through the archway that led into the meeting room.

Aizen sat at the head of a long table. To his right, sat Ulquiorra and to his left was Barragan Louisbairn, the second Espada.

"Ah, Good evening my dearest sixth Espada."

Grimmjow sucked it up and bowed his head ever so slightly, "Lord Aizen."

Aizen gestured for Grimmjow to take a seat, "Your report, Grimmjow?"

Grimmjow seated himself at the opposite end of the table, he looked from the lifeless Ulquiorra to the wrinkled geezard Barragan, he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small USB and slid it down the table, "All the files you requested were copied onto the USB, I was met with small resistance when the job was completed."

Aizen's eyes locked with Grimmjow's, although his polite smile remained. He handed the USB to Ulquiorra without breaking the eye contact, "Small resistance? The precautionary team reported multiple fired bullets in the alleys below. Were you injured?"

Grimmjow was disgusted with his question. He didn't care if he was injured in the slightest, but here he was practically mocking him, "Yes, a bullet grazed my leg, but Dr. Inoue made it in time to patch me up."

"Well I'm glad to see our finest surgeon personally sought to your needs," Grimmjow didn't like that phrase, "So the mission went well then?" He paused for a moment, "No anomalies to report?"

Grimmjow's headache flared with the annoying games Aizen was playing, his mind briefly conjured the green-haired woman, "Nothing out of the ordinary, my Lord."

Aizen's eyes drifted around the room, "Well, I'm glad to see that the job was completed, I know it must have been a little difficult since you were assigned to a new sector, and I apologize for that. We've just heard rumors of some," his wandering eyes flicked to Grimmjow's, "_oddities_ in that area."

"It was no trouble, my Lord." Grimmjow practically spat out.

"Of course, always forgiving, my sixth Espada," Aizen mocked, "Whatever the case, you have been injured and since I value my Espada I will ask if you would take the next week or two off." Aizen leaned forward on his elbows and clasped his hands before his face.

Grimmjow wouldn't mind taking the week off since his leg was kind of bothering him, and not to mention his headaches lately, but then again he didn't like the idea of getting a half-ass pay check.

As if reading his mind Aizen added, "Of course it would be paid time off, since you were injured at work."

Grimmjow nodded, "Thank you, Lord Aizen."

Just then Halibel and Coyote Starrk, the first Espada, walked in.

They must have a meeting scheduled or something, since Aizen gestured for Grimmjow to leave. As Grimmjow reached the archway Aizen called out once more.

"Oh Grimmjow," He turned back around to see the two Espada seating themselves beside the fourth and second Espada respectively. Grimmjow's eyes met Aizen's.

"I know it is rude of me but could you fetch Mr. Jiruga for me? I wish to have a meeting with the five Espada about who will fill in for your sector."

Like he had a choice, "Yes, Lord Aizen."

He turned and left, for once the talking piece of shit elevator was a welcoming embrace in comparison to the facade _Lord_ Aizen held up.

As he waited for the elevator to reach the fifth floor he looked at himself in the almost mirror-like stainless steel of the elevator doors, his face was scrunched up and irritated. He realized his headache was only growing, and he had probably been making this face through out the whole meeting.

He shrugged, if the face got him a paid week off he wouldn't mind having the mind shattering headaches every now and then... maybe.

The doors opened and he walked down a series of hallways until he reached the fifth Espada's door. He knocked loudly on the surface, the sound seemed to echo in his ears getting louder and created a flaring pain in his head. No one answered.

He turned the knob to find it was unlocked, "Nnoitra, you in here!?" Grimmjow called from the door. He walked through the doorway, shutting it behind him. He walked around the rather large office, hell, it was more like an apartment. The padding of Grimmjow's boots on the carpet reverberated in his ears and felt like someone was banging a gong inside of his brain.

As he turned around to walk back to the hallway, he realized something.

He had to piss.

He figured the fifth would probably be pissed if he used his bathroom. Being the stingy Espada he was. So Grimmjow would take great pride in pissing on what was someone else's, especially if it was a stingy someone. Or if it was just Nnoitra in general. Plus the accommodations that were given to the fifth and higher ranking Espada were worlds apart from sixth and lower. So Grimmjow was slightly curious as to what their personal bathrooms looked like.

He opened the bathroom door and closed it behind him. His forehead wrinkled at the noise of the bathroom door shutting. It was indeed a very expensive, high end bathroom, boring as shit and matched the rest of the asylum decor, but definitely nice.

After he was finished relieving himself he was starting to feel faint. He clutched the bathroom counter and began walking towards the door. His head began throbbing acutely and the next thing he saw was black.

* * *

It was two in the morning and the urge to bang her head against the keyboard was ever more present. Nel had spent her entire day sifting through webpage after webpage trying to find any kind of measly information on the blue-haired pointy-eye-tattooed freak.

She had found little bits and pieces of information, like for instance, countless photos from night club photographers. She had read through all the stupid starving desperate women's comments and found one that seemed to offer her a little something. His phone number. The woman was obviously not very happy with Mr. Jaegerjaquez and blatantly posted his phone number out in the open, Nel could only imagine the amount of phone calls he received.

In the end she had been searching all day and yielded very little information. She could find absolutely nothing on where he might work at. She figured even if she had found something it would have been phony but at least she'd have somewhere to start.

She couldn't help but be reminded of when she had searched for herself online. She found close to nothing except for her old apartment complex location, which breaking in and searching through yielded nothing new either.

Nel was tired of finding only more questions instead of answers. She was sick of not being able to remember anything from before when she woke up in the hospital. She was tired of the buzzing in her head.

The doctor who had treated her head injury had told her that she may honestly never regain her memory, or she could regain it the next day. The future was totally and completely unsure. He had explained to her that her body, or brain rather, may feel odd sensations when around objects or people who jog her memory. Her memories are still trying to break through to her own consciousness.

So more often than not there was a faint buzzing in her head all the time. Being around the ones she held closest to her, Dondochakka and Pesche, she felt a little more buzzing than usual. Sometimes the feeling could almost be debilitating, all of her focus going into trying to connect the dots together.

That's why she had so carelessly fallen asleep next to the blue-haired pervert. Usually, sleep never came easy for her, even being in the same house as Dondochakka and Pesche made her experience the sensation in her brain. After she had taken care of Grimmjow, she was exhausted from running, fighting, bandaging, everything.

She had sat next to him on the bed listening to his breathing, finding it relaxing. She was planning on sleeping on the couch that night but as she lay there the repetitive sound lulled her to sleep. The buzzing had ceased for the time being. Before she knew it she was waking up to a man removing her clothes with his eyes.

Nel was unprepared to deal with him conscious, since she really hadn't given serious thought or planned out what she was going to say to him. So when she awoke in a place she did not expect with a person she did not expect she just did the best thing she could think of, go with the flow.

She could tell he was a pervert, and a manly man, the kind that thinks he owns women. Of course she could tell he was just as skeptical of her as she was of him. But between the two, they both were at a disadvantage. Neither one of them wanted to reveal too much about themselves, so there wasn't much room for give and take.

She had her head in her hands leaning over the keyboard. The blue light of the computer screen in the dark room fell on her tangled locks. She was tired.

The twist of a door knob sounded behind her and soon after a groggy looking Dondochakka appeared in the crevice of the doorway.

"Nel, its two in the morning, why don't you go sleep for awhile? You've been at this all day..."

She lifted her head off of one of her hands to gaze at the chubby man, "I'll go to bed soon."

Just then Pesche pushed past Dondochakka and pointed a finger at Nel, "Look at yourself! How are we supposed to go to the beach tomorrow with you looking like a starving zombie about to bite off the head of an innocent child!? Go to bed! I don't want to be embarrassed tomorrow!" He dramatically yelled at her, arms flailing about.

Nel sighed and pushed herself up off the computer chair and began to walk towards the door, "Alright, alright, I'm going, I'm going!"

Pesche had a smug look on his face, happy to have been successfully able to order Nel around.

"Oh and by the way, nice footsy pajamas, are those insects on them?" Nel just walked out the door with a smirk on her face.

Pesche grabbed his chest attempting to hide the embarrassing night wear, blushing, he stomped out of the room and down the hall to his own muttering something incoherent.

Nel giggled aloud when she heard the door slam.

She went to her own room and threw herself on the soft bed. The buzzing was very apparent tonight, sleep would most likely not take her for a few hours.

* * *

A loud slam woke the blue-haired Espada up from his dream. He realized where he was and stumbled toward the bathroom door. His hand rested on the knob.

"The nerve of that bastard!" Grimmjow heard an infuriated Nnoitra shout.

He reflexively flinched when something glass shattered against the outside of the bathroom door.

"Master Nnoitra, what is the matter?" answered a fearful but loyal Tesla, Nnoitra's fraccion.

Fraccion were given to those of fifth Espada rank and higher, and were simply arrancars to use at one's own will.

"Get the fuck out of here Tesla!" Nnoitra screamed, the sound of another glass object shattering farther away.

"I just want to help you sir!" Tesla said with much more fear and a lot less loyalty.

Nnoitra let out a long dramatic sigh, "I told you about what those damn pieces of shit found at the sixth Espada's sector didn't I?"

Tesla paused before answering, "Yes about the three guards with broken necks, I still don't understand how it matters."

Grimmjow's eyes widened from their dazed half-asleep state.

Nnoitra snarled and another object was flung and crashed where Grimmjow assumed Tesla had been standing, "You damn imbecile, do you ever listen to me!?"

"Yes of course of course Master Nnoitra, I just can't comprehend your fine intellect." Tesla grovelled.

"Oh shut up you fuckin' dipshit!" Nnoitra lowered his voice, "Do you know what it is to be an arrancar?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes at the question.

Tesla seemed to mull it over, "To serve Lord Aizen, to repay our debt to him?"

He heard another crash and a yelp out of Tesla's mouth, "No you idiot! As arrancars we are trained to become powerful in the art of killing. We are basically born from hate and murder. We are the best at what we do, and do you know why?"

Tesla seemed to keep his mouth shut, understanding that anything he said would just cause Nnoitra to chuck something in his direction.

"Because we enjoy what we do. We love the thrill of the hunt and the sight of blood spilling from our own actions!"

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez," Grimmjow's eyes widened slightly at his own name, "the sixth Espada, he has only been here with us for a year but do you know what Aspect of Death he was given?"

Tesla must have shook his head because Nnoitra answered, "Destruction. He rips apart his enemies and revels in their own demise. The sight of blood is a welcomed one for the Espada given that Aspect of Death."

Nnoitra's footsteps stopped and Grimmjow heard him plunge himself into a chair, "Now do you see my moronic pupil?" Before Tesla could answer Nnoitra saved himself the annoyance, "Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez or any Espada or arrancars for that matter wouldn't break the neck of an enemy. There is no thrill in that, no savoring of the kill."

"So you're saying Mr. Jaegerjaquez didn't kill those three guards?"

It seemed to Grimmjow that Nnoitra was throwing one breakable object after another, "What a fucking idiotic question! OF COURSE HE DIDN'T, have you been listening you deaf piece of shit!?"

Grimmjow had to press his ear to the door to hear the next words that were spoken. "But I know who did."

"Who killed th-" Tesla began but then gasped, and not because Nnoitra threw something painful at him, "Could it be?"

The two were almost whispering now amongst each other, making it difficult for Grimmjow to hear, "Who else could be so irritatingly proud, too weak to kill like a true arrancar, a true Espada?"

Nnoitra was pacing now, "And Aizen..." Another object hit the bathroom door, "That bastard is mocking me! I'm pretty positive he's aware of who did it, and yet he openly asked Ulquiorra to take that sector. He's... punishing me! Like some weak child!" He growled.

After he was done throwing things, he spoke once more, "Come, Tesla, maybe the esteemed third Espada will be in the training room so I can put that bitch in her place."

The door to the office opened and slammed shut, at the same time Grimmjow's cell phone rang loudly, scaring the shit out of him.

He jumped, hitting his head on the wall. Gripping his head, he answered his phone.

"Yeah?" he answered lowly.

The loud sounds of techno music poured in through the phone, along with a loud group of men and giggling women.

"Yo Grimm!" A drunk Di Roy yelled much too loudly, "We got some hot ass bitches-Ow!" A womanly giggle sounded in the background. "I mean we're with some attractive company-Hey! I do not sound like an old fart! Whatever! Fuck you Ylfordt! Just get down to _Nova_ already!" He hung up.

Talk about being assaulted, first getting knocked out and the nightmare, which he remembered it was slightly different but couldn't seem to pinpoint its difference since he was awoken by a screaming Nnoitra and glass shattering everywhere. Then Di Roy calls, drunk, begging him to get down to a damn night club.

He took a deep breath in and then exhaled. He got up and walked out of the fifth Espada's office, dodging the glass remnants that littered every inch of the office.

He needed a drink. And a good fuck wouldn't be too bad either.

As he made his way out of Las Noches his brain kept trying to remember his dream. It had been the same dream as usual. But when he blinked and saw the solitary eyes gazing at him in the darkness he also saw a figure, in the flames. He couldn't see past the flames to the figure, and when he finally could he was roused from the dream by the clattering sounds of Nnoitra's anger.

And what was that all about? He decided he'd contemplate it later. He never wanted to be wasted as bad as he did right now. There were too many things going on.

And somewhere in the back of his twisted and mangled mind, he was hoping he could black out and have the dream again, so he could decipher the person lurking in the flames.

* * *

I thought I'd let you all know I'm super excited to write the next chapter! And I promise a little Grimmnel action and I apologize for there being none in this chapter! Anyways I love my reviewers, cause they're nice and stroke my ego like the mane of a beautiful unicorn! Stroking my ego = more interest in updating! Stroking a unicorn's mane = rainbows. So I promise rainbows and faster updates if you review ;)

cube V


	4. Confrontation

**AN **:Hey guys! So I promised an update really soon so I decided I'd actually do what I said I was going to do for once. 10,703 words this time around! Wooh! A real sized chapter! I wanted to let you all know that if you find I'm not updating fast enough check my profile, I'll most likely keep a status update of my progress with the current chapter of **AFITD. **I also wanted to point out that this was a really fast update for me, so don't expect it to continue, I'm not saying it won't 'cause I'm going to ***try*** but please don't hate me if it takes a little time now and then. Okeeeeeeeeeeeee, I'll stop now.

**Disclaimer **: I don't own Bleach, I just enjoy manipulating said characters c;

* * *

Light cascaded in through the large window above the king-sized bed, and prodded his eyelids. His forehead crinkled in response and he threw an lazy arm over his eyes to properly shield them. The master bedroom stretched the length of the apartment building. The window behind his bed overlooked the bay and inner city, while the balcony on the opposite end presented the vast expanse of ocean and long sandy beaches. He had left the sliding door open and a gentle breeze was coming through the screen.

He grunted when an unknown body rolled into his and snuggled into his side. Angrily he opened his eyes and stared at the sleeping blonde-haired woman clinging to him desperately. The sight made him want to vomit, and that wasn't the alcohol from last night speaking.

Grimmjow nudged her a bit and managed to get her to roll back over to her side. He found himself questioning what had actually happened last night. It almost felt like Deja Vu, except instead of the butt of a gun rendering him unconscious, it was massive amounts of alcohol.

There had been a reason he had consumed so much, but damn if he'd remember it now. In his mind he retraced what he could remember.

He decided to start with the obvious. There was a woman sleeping in his bed. Grimmjow recalled snippets of their intimacy, and from what he could remember it wasn't pretty. Generally one of the most important rules in his book was abstaining from sex whilst hammered. Tipsy sex was good and fine, but when you passed over to being flat-out drunk, it usually wasn't a great idea. Its clumsy, a lot of overly dramatic moaning, fake orgasms, and generally drool was involved. He vaguely remembered the blonde woman attempting to make a seductive face but instead was drooling on herself... And he still pounced.

He sighed in frustration at his stupidity. His brow furrowed a bit trying to remember before that, images of Nakeem and Edrad pushing shots of whiskey on him, and Di Roy and Yylfordt struggling in their endeavor to pick up women way out of their league. Before that though?

Before that he had driven from work. His eyes flicked open.

_Work_. The memory had hit him like cold water. He remembered eavesdropping on Nnoitra and Tesla's conversation. He should have realized Aizen would have inspected all the elements of the scene himself.

He stood up, baring his nude form to the rustling sea-breeze. He bent down and grabbed his boxers and slid them on. He began pacing around, his hand finding his blue locks and pulling on them to release some of his bewilderment.

How could he have been so stupid as to let such an enormous detail as that go unnoticed by him. Aizen was a psychiatrist, of course he would analyze the intent of the kill. And the way the veiled woman had killed was an intent far from his own. Far different. As much as he hated the creepy fifth Espada, he knew he was right.

He closed his eyes, angrily, and found that he saw the solitary, guilty eyes he had always seen in his dreams.

_The Dream._ That was another thing. Something his mind was trying to avoid, because he didn't understand it, and now, he didn't know if he wanted to...

He had found himself facing the flames of the burning building once more, but instead of trying to force the flames away by shutting tight his eyes, he found himself unable. He was being tortured by the red glow and the vile aroma encircling him.

Until he saw it. A figure, obscured by the licking flames. He forced himself to stare into the fiery glow until the figure unveiled itself from the surrounding flames.

He didn't want to believe his own eyes, so he shut them. He found no escape from the figure, as a familiar pair of eyes appeared in the darkness of his closed lids. When he opened them, instead of looking into a mirror he stood still in front of the riling flames, just as before. His body had chosen to allow him to stay before the fire.

Before when he had gazed into the destructive flame, everything had burned to nothingness around him.

Now as he stood before it, the visible figure stood, with a hand reaching out to him.

He had wanted to run from the figure. He had wanted to not believe. There was no mistake. But why?

Turquoise hair was left untouched by the swirling flames. Pale skin remained unscathed, but when he gazed into her eyes he realized she was hurt. Her mouth remained closed but her eyes were crying out to him. There was a terrible sadness in their depths mixed with intense longing.

He dove into the churning flames. They didn't burn him, in fact they weren't even hot. He moved through them with ease, he attempted to reach for her hand to save her. His fingertips almost made contact until he felt a searing heat burst from her fingertips. His eyes went wide, and soon the flame had encased her entire arm. She made no movements, her hand was still outstretched to him. The only visible difference was her face. He watched as her eyes grievously closed, twin tears racing down her cheeks. She made no sounds and accepted the enveloping flame, until nothing was left.

Nothing but ash.

Grimmjow gripped his own hair and screamed. He wasn't scared, he wasn't sad, he was confused, he was angry. He jerked his head when he heard a womanly voice squeak near his bed.

He looked at the terrified woman and raised his finger, pointing to the door, he screamed, "GET OUT!"

She had squealed once more and hurriedly grabbed all of her stuff and sprinted out of his apartment. When he heard the door the slam he finally released his hold on his hair.

He growled loudly and kicked his end table, sending it flying into the wall. The wooden table and the lamp that was on it lay shattered in pieces on the floor.

_"What is going on?! I don't know this woman, I don't care for this woman, why is she plaguing my every dream?" _He sat down on the cold tile and placed his head in his hands, and closed his eyes. "_Those eyes. Those cold, detached and guilty fucking eyes! Who are you Neliel Tu Oderschvank and why have your eyes been in my dream for thirteen fucking months!?"_

His mind was reeling and he realized he needed to calm down. He wasn't Nnoitra, he didn't need to break everything in sight when he didn't understand or like something. He would handle this with his dignity in tact.

But he didn't know what to do. He wanted these dreams-_these nightmares-_-to dissipate. And some part of him, that he kept buried under six feet of concrete, wanted to know what the hell it all meant.

He didn't want to lean on anyone, he didn't need the help of others. He most certainly didn't want to explain this fucked up situation to anyone, his pride and ego wouldn't allow that. He would have to deal with it himself.

He would continue living a normal life, or as normal as his ever was. This could all be a fluke, he wouldn't let dreams of someone steer his reality. They were just dreams. Underneath the six feet of concrete a tiny voice mentioned that these dreams were the consequence of intense migraines that literally knocked him out cold. If that didn't steer his reality than what did?

He shoved it all into the back of his mind with a loud grunt and decided that being alone now was not helping his condition. He would be normal, and he would normally head over to Shawlong's estate to bother him on his week off.

Sturdy hands pushed up off of the cold floor and he propelled himself into the master bathroom for a shower. Normal.

* * *

Two delicate hands lifted to her face and rubbed her tired eyes. Nel had gotten about five hours of sleep, it may have not been enough sleep for the average healthy person but Nel had pretty much gotten used to it. She had dressed herself in her bikini and had thrown on a black coverup.

She was brushing her teeth when she heard Yumichika yell loudly from downstairs, "Hurry up Neliel, we must ensure that we obtain perfect sunbathing spots!"

Nel rolled her eyes and washed out her mouth.

When she walked downstairs she was confronted with many friendly faces. Dondochakka and Pesche were clad in their swimming trunks playing a video game while waiting. On the couch, Yumichika Asayegawa, sat staring at his fingernails, scanning them for any imperfections. Rangiku Matsumoto was standing in front of the mirror in the living room making seductive poses and eyeing her own cleavage. Lastly stood Ikakku Madarame who was currently yelling commands at Pesche on how to beat Dondochakka.

Nel couldn't fight the smile that had graced her lips. Even though her memories were gone she felt blessed to have the people she did in her life. They were a crazy bunch, and more often than not she wanted to strangle them, they were there for her, and they took care of her.

"Neliel, you look like you're about to cry, and if you are, please put a cork in it, I will not sacrifice my beautiful tan for ugly tears!" Yumichika had rudely shook her out of her gaze.

Ah yes, strangling them.

She had just reached the bottom step when Rangiku assaulted her, "Oh that's adorable Nel! Where did you get that cover up?" Before Nel could answer Rangiku was spinning her around as if she were a doll, then without warning unzipped the cover up to reveal a plain white bikini, "And oh! where do you get this little number?"

Nel smiled and rolled her eyes, snatching the zipper from Rangiku's hand and concealing herself, "You were there when I bought it all Rangiku, like I would be alive if I ever went shopping with out you."

Rangiku smiled, her eyes squinting closed, "You're right, I'd kill you where you stood."

Ikakku approached Nel, "Alright, lets get going before Princess has a fit."

"Alright, alright, you will all have plenty of time to talk when we're on the beach claiming my rightfully owned beautiful section of sand," Yumichika called from the door.

* * *

"Ah, why good afternoon Mr. Jaegerjaquez. Here to see Master Koufang?" A middle-aged man answered the large decorative door.

"Of course, where's the hot-shot at?" Grimmjow teased.

"He is currently in the eastern courtyard practicing." He stepped aside allowing Grimmjow passage into the mansion.

Grimmjow smacked the doorman on the shoulder, "Thanks man, I'll head in."

"Of course Mr. Jaegerjaquez." The doorman replied to the Grimmjow's retreating form.

His fingers ran through his blue hair as he took in the tall ceilings and expensive sculptures. A grandiose chandelier hung lowly in the entry hall, the tile floor was polished till he could see himself in it, and large potted plants lined the room.

"You know, if I didn't know the guy I'd say he was compensatin' for somethin'." He muttered to himself as he treaded through the extravagant long hallways, passed immeasurable white pillars and luxurious furniture, until he reached a wall of windows with a large glass door with achromatic designs.

He pushed open the door nonchalantly and stepped out into the courtyard. It was circular in shape, and barren in comparison to the rest of the estate. In the center of the circle a tall, thin man with dark hair that was braided down his back fought against a shorter bulkier brunette man.

The man with the braid was Shawlong Koufang, although they hadn't known each other for very long, Grimmjow considered him to be his closest friend. Shawlong seemed to be taking it easy on the initiate.

Grimmjow sat himself down on a stone bench and watched the two men spar.

Shawlong Koufang owned many of the city's most profitable businesses. He was one of, if not the, richest men in the city. Shawlong had a secret to his wealth. The businesses? Yeah they made a good chunk of change but in the end they mostly concealed his true identity.

Shawlong Koufang was a crime boss, the leader of a notorious gang called the Adjuchas. Many of his smaller businesses in the seedier parts of the city functioned as way points for their underground den.

As Grimmjow watched the two men flipping around each other he couldn't help but remember the odd way they had met.

_It was last summer, Grimmjow had just begun working for Las Noches. In order for an Arrancar to be named an Espada, one had to battle the Espada and beat them. Grimmjow had decided early on that he wanted to be number six. There was no real reason other than the fact that he liked the number six. He challenged the current sixth Espada, Luppi Antenor and killed him with one blow._

_So he became an Espada, and as such was assigned his first sector by Aizen. He had warned Grimmjow that the area was considered a territory of an inner city gang called the Adjuchas. The first week patrolling in his new sector Grimmjow had found it to be, well, terribly boring. Nothing ever happened. Grimmjow never caught even the slightest glimpse of crime in the so-called territory. No murderers, no muggers, not even a drunken brawl._

_It was in this boredom that Grimmjow began to pay more attention, finding that there was nothing more to do. He had made a game of pinpointing suspicious people and tracking them. Eventually he noticed that most had the tendency of entering the backdoor of a twenty-four hour Japanese restaurant._

_How laughable, he had thought at the time. He knew he wasn't the wittiest or most perceptive person, but he had easily traced the group back to a source. By the size and build of most of the people he had suspected were apart of the Adjuchas, he figured fighting ten of them would be a piece of cake._

_A lightbulb had flicked on and the next night he had found himself knocking out the doorman at the backdoor and treading down the same stairs many of the Adjuchas had entered._

_He reached what he assumed was the main room and had knocked out about fourteen Adjuchas on his way there._

_In the room a few men sat at a table. On Grimmjow's left was a giant of a man with half his head shaved and the other half was long shaggy and red. On his right was another man who seemed to be three times the size of the average Adjucha Grimmjow had seen. He had long black hair that framed his face, and by his reaction to Grimmjow's entrance, he assumed he wasn't all that smart. In the center sat a tall and thin man, his black hair was greased back into a long braid._

_"Uh, who's that boss?" Said the overgrown black-haired man._

_Grimmjow sized each of the men up. Sometimes he felt like he had a sixth sense. If he concentrated, he could feel how much power was in an opponent. He figured it was just a trait he picked up over the years, being the sadistic blood-thirsty freak he was._

_A devilish grin stretched across his face._

_The man in the middle met Grimmjow's eyes, "I'm sorry but you've just stumbled into the lion's den, how did you get past my guards?"_

_The man was now standing, hovering over the table._

_"It seems that the legendary Adjuchas are a joke. You know, I was excited, excited that I finally found something to do on these boring patrols. But here I am, like you said, in the lion's den. But... I sense no lion."_

_"It seems that ridiculous hair has rooted itself into your brain, muddling your senses." He made a hand movement and the two giant men went to stand in front of the only exit out of the hide out. "I regret to inform you that I cannot allow you to leave this room alive."_

_Grimmjow's grin grew wider, "I was hoping you'd say that."_

_The tall man faced the wall where a number of long swords hung on their displays. He pulled out two identical ones and threw one to his opponent._

_Grimmjow caught it with one hand, "The leader of an infamous gang of nobodies is fighting fairly? I should consider myself honored." he mocked._

_They had fought that night, the battle didn't last very long before the dark-haired man felt the tip of Grimmjow's sword resting on his jugular._

_Grimmjow grinned, "You know, I've never actually used a long sword before, it was rather boring."_

_The man was on his knees trying to catch his breath, when he noticed Grimmjow had sheathed his long sword and tossed it onto the table behind them._

_"Why did you refrain from killing me?"_

_"Tch, I _said_ I was just looking for some excitement on this boring patrol."_

_"But, my men? You killed them did you not?"_

_"Nope, as much as I enjoy breaking an opponent, I thought I'd switch it up for a night. Turns out knockin' em in the head works just as good as slicin' em up._

_Grimmjow turned to leave, shoving his hands into his pockets, pushing past the two boulders._

_"Wait." He turned his head and looked at the tall man out of the corner of his eye._

_"Yeah?" He replied placidly._

_"Join us. I pay very well and take good care of my men."_

_Grimmjow laughed harshly. "The mighty leader of the Adjuchas wishes for me to join his gang. Sorry bud, I don't think you'd look like much of a leader if a simple _underling_ could slice your throat in a matter of seconds."_

_"Appearances mean nothing to me, you are strong, and I seek strength in my allies. If you will not join, then I would simply ask you to be a sparring partner of mine. I'll pay you well." He added quickly._

_Grimmjow liked the change of pace. He liked the fact that the guy could appreciate his superior strength, which was uncommon among the Espada or even the arrancars in general. Mr. Braid wasn't going to challenge him, actually he had requested his help in becoming stronger. And to be honest outside of Las Noches, this man had shown great potential._

_Grimmjow hadn't moved from his position, a wide smirk tugged his lips up, "Alright, but I don't want your damn charity, names Grimmjow."_

_"Shawlong Koufang." the taller man replied._

Shawlong had made a lot of progress since last summer.

He had easily pinned the initiate, signalling that the practice session was concluded. Both men stood, the initiate dusted his clothes off and they bowed gracefully to one another. Shawlong made a comment to the young initiate that he was improving and showing great promise, which lit the kid's face up.

A servant handed Shawlong a white towel, he took the offering and dabbed the sweat from his face.

"Hey Grimm." Shawlong's dark brown eyes met the blue of his own. "I'm surprised to see you up and walking so soon after last night." He teased.

"Tch, I didn't drink that much." His mind immediately went back to this morning, and how scared that bitch was... and his dream.

Shawlong handed the towel back to his servant and thanked him. He turned to look at Grimmjow. He had noticed that Grimmjow was very tense last night, and generally he knew his best friend to drink a decent amount, but when he attempted to keep up with Nakeem and Edrad he knew something was agitating him.

Knowing the blue haired man pretty well, Shawlong knew he couldn't flat-out speak to Grimmjow about what was bothering him. Grimmjow dealt with his own problems and never once had asked for help.

Grimmjow had entrusted much of his life story to Shawlong. He knew from brief conversations with the man that he had had a rough life and a blurry past. He knew of the secret corporation of Las Noches, the arrancars, and the Espada. Grimmjow was not a man of sentiment though, so when it came to a dilemma there was never a word uttered from his mouth about dealing with it.

So over time he had realized the only thing he could really offer his friend was a good ol' fashioned brawl.

Shawlong was an avid weapon collector, there wasn't a room in his mansion that didn't have some sort of weapon adorning the wall or, for the more expensive ones, a display case. Lately he had taken an interest in spears of all sorts.

He studied his friend. His forehead was wrinkled like he was remembering something unpleasant. His eyes gazed at nothing but seemed to be very focused on something. As much as his friend thought he kept his emotions in check, he was far from realizing how much he actually gave away.

"You up for some sparring?" Shawlong broke the silence.

Grimmjow's eyes perked up at the question, and a small smirk appeared, "'Course, you look pretty haggard though." He teased.

"Oh I assure you that I am more than capable of five more rounds." He called for his servant asking him to bring the weapons.

"What this time? Daggers? Sabres?" Grimmjow had sauntered into the center of the courtyard.

"Spears." Shawlong said, standing opposite of Grimmjow's spot.

At that moment the servant reappeared with two javelins, handing one to each opponent.

"Spears?" Grimmjow gazed at the weapon as if it were a stick. In general Grimmjow enjoyed a more up close and personal fighting style. But, he'd give it a go for Shawlong's sake, and to keep his wandering mind occupied.

The two men crossed their weapons preparing to do battle. Shawlong took the first swing and barely missed Grimmjow, he swiftly came around once more clashing their spears together. Grimmjow had thrown Shawlong off-balance leaving an opening but Grimmjow hesitated. The clang of the spears echoed in his brain, sending a dull pain through his skull.

Shawlong considered himself lucky and quickly took advantage of Grimmjow's hesitation, spun the weapon around in his hand colliding the butt of his weapon with Grimmjow's side.

The blue-haired man grunted and quickly countered, which left Shawlong open once more. Once again Grimmjow hesitated.

Shawlong flipped his spear around and stabbed the wooden end into Grimmjow's gut.

"You're slow," Shawlong said with ease, as their spears clashed once more. "When I can see an opening, _I take it_. There is no hesitation."

Grimmjow grunted and pressed the pole of his spear hard against Shawlong's, causing the thin man to stumble backwards, "I'm not hesitating!"

Shawlong quickly regained his footing and countered Grimmjow's incoming attack, "Your attacks are weak, you need to come at me directly!"

Grimmjow had realized what Shawlong was doing, which only furthered his annoyance with the cocky mob boss.

"I can handle this on my own without your combat advice!" Grimmjow snarled.

Shawlong took the opening and swung his spear underneath Grimmjow's, effectively cutting the weapon in half.

"Then beat me!" Shawlong screamed back.

Grimmjow growled and gripped the shortened spear, that was now more like a twig with knife attached to it. He threw the spear to the ground and ran towards his sparring partner.

He jumped above Shawlong's thrust, flipped through the air and landed his right foot on the pole of the spear, crushing the weapon in half.

Both men collapsed to the ground.

Grimmjow's hand absently went to his bandaged thigh, the impact had been a little painful for his wound. Both lay on the cobblestone catching their breath.

Shawlong spoke first, "Grimmjow," he said panting a bit, "Whatever the hell is bothering you just face it already."

Grimmjow was panting as well, "Why the hell do you care?" He said vehemently but not denying it.

Shawlong stood up and began to walk towards the house, "Because that sparring session was weak. I can't get any stronger if you can't last more than five minutes sparring."

Grimmjow stood up and snarled, "The fuck you talkin' about?! I kicked your ass you girly-haired freak!"

Shawlong was dabbing the sweat off of his face with a fresh towel again, "I broke your spear. Which by the rules means I won my very first sparring match against you."

He only growled in response. His hand shot down to his thigh where he was shot, he realized too late that it probably wasn't a smart idea to be hopping around while it was still healing. It was a dull pain but he figured it'd be okay.

Grimmjow stood, despite the pain, and shooed a servant offering a towel away, following Shawlong back into the house.

When he entered the doorway a white fluffy towel hit him in the face and fell into his arms, "I don't need a damn towel for Christ sake," Grimmjow responded.

"Go take a shower, you smell like shit, the boys are down at the _Tiki Bar_." Shawlong said, his figure already disappearing down a hallway.

Out of all the places their group hung out, the _Tiki Bar _was by far their most frequented. It was apart of their hangover recovery program as well as a good place for some relaxing.

Grimmjow trudged down a hall opposite of Shawlong's direction and into one of the guest bathrooms.

Once in the shower his mind was no longer occupied with ogling the expensive scenery or busy conjuring insults or comebacks to Shawlong, or fighting off overly tentative servants. Nope, the hot water from the shower head only brought him directly back to his inner problem.

Not to mention he had tried to ignore the throbbing headache that had plagued him since he stepped into the bright sunlight of Shawlong's extravagant courtyard.

He hated to admit it, but the stupid know-it-all was right. He definitely would never say that aloud, or the fact that he was actually slightly grateful for Shawlong's roundabout ways of helping him deal with his own problems.

This dream had caused severe migraines and was now literally knocking him out. Another thing he didn't want to admit, he was lucky. He was actually given a face to go on, and a face he knew, even though he had just met said face.

When he stepped out of the shower he had decided his plan of attack.

For now, if he did in fact run into her, he would continue to keep things casual. From what he had seen she wasn't dumb, so he would have to be sneaky about figuring it all out. If he didn't run into her... well he'd either be stuck with debilitating headaches or seek her out on his own. Both sounded like shitty ideas. On top of those facts, he was still deciding whether the dream was in fact just a fluke.

Once he was dressed he made his way out to the driveway and mounted his bike. Shawlong had already left in his limousine since he knew Grimmjow would never choose to ride anything other than his motorcycle unless he was forced to.

When he arrived at the bar he parked his bike and walked from the parking lot to the entrace. The _Tiki Bar_was located on the white sands of the beach, it was very open and appeared as just a roof with some wooden supports with low half-walls.

The bar was always packed full of people and was always loud and a good time. Through all the noise though Grimmjow could hear the distinct raucous of laughter coming from their usual spot.

Grimmjow headed towards the bar that faced the beach, immediately seeing the familiar scene of Yylfordt hitting on an average looking woman at the bar. Alongside of the kid was Nakeem, Edrad and Shawlong laughing hysterically at what Grimmjow assumed was Di Roy attempting to woo the bikini-clad women on the beach.

"So what are the highlights?" Grimmjow said standing behind his friends, lifting his hand up to tell the bar tender he wanted the usual.

"So I thought that crotch rocket of yours was supposed to be fast?" Shawlong mocked taking a sip of his beer.

"Oh shut up and go fix your braid ya girl." Grimmjow shot back, a beer now in his hand as well.

Grimmjow sat down next to Nakeem and lit a cigarette while his eyes found Di Roy on the beach as expected.

"Right so, the highlights," Edrad explained without missing a moment of Di Roy's search for the next unsuspecting victim. Di Roy raised his hand to his brow, searching enthusiastically. "Most have been pretty... forgiving today. Aside from some blonde chick with huge tits that buried his head in the sand."

The four laughed loudly at Di Roy's expense.

Said man had found his next target, a thin brunette. The group watched as the scrawny Di Roy puffed his chest out and marched over to her like he had a stick lodged somewhere it shouldn't have been.

Another cacophony of laughter erupted from the group, as Di Roy had tried to put on his seductive face while he spoke with the annoyed woman.

"Oh, he's doing it... he's asking her out." Grimmjow said in suspense.

They watched as the brunette made some sort of gesture about height, which sent them all into another round of laughing.

"Here he goes..." Nakeem spoke.

Shawlong imitated Di Roy, "Well when you're ready for a real man girl you just give me a call," he then proceeded to hand her his _c__ard_. Yes a card, how incredibly cheesy this kid was.

As the woman turned to stomp away the white-haired kid smacked her on her ass and gave her a wink.

"He actually did it," Grimmjow was dying of laughter as the woman whipped back around and smacked the tactless man across the cheek, "Damn kid doesn't know when to quit!"

The environment was welcome to Grimmjow, aside from the increasingly painful headache, his mind was occupied.

An hour or so passed and they were still watching Di Roy's antics. He had just been rejected yet again, and they had drunk enough to start making up what the women and Di Roy were conversing about.

Di Roy had set his eyes on a pair of women laying on the beach sunbathing. An umbrella blocked most of the group's view but at this point they really didn't care.

"Yo! Check it out he's going back for round two with tig o' bitties!" Nakeem yelled much too loudly.

From what Grimmjow could see there was a blonde haired woman who was now standing up helping a rather girly looking man off his towel. She then grabbed him and practically dragged him into the water. The other woman, who was obscured by the umbrella, laid still on the beach.

"I swear if I didn't know the damn kid, I'd say he's got some serious balls." Grimmjow commented, "But its Di Roy so we all know that his brain doesn't work right."

The woman now stood up as Di Roy approached her, the umbrella no longer concealing her form.

"Tits of a feather flock together," Nakeem said rather drunkenly.

"That's some wild ass green-hair," Edrad gravelly drunk voice said approvingly, "We'd look really cool together! You know like me with my awesome hair and her with her awesome hair." Edrad's imagination conjured him walking on a red carpet with the green-haired woman under his arm and twinkly stars everywhere. "...Yeah." He said dreamily.

Grimmjow didn't respond, since his jaw had hit the edge of the bar rather painfully.

Of all the people.

* * *

They had been at the beach for hours. The sun, the sand, the breeze, and the water, Nel loved it all. It was refreshing and just what she needed. And of course, most of all, she was spending much-needed time with some of her loved ones.

They had all been hanging out in the water with floaties. The small waves undulating beneath them was relaxing. Naturally Pesche and Dondochakka were flipping their relaxed friends as well as starting countless water fights. By the time she retreated from the water to get warm underneath the sun her stomach was painfully sore from laughing so hard.

She had laid out next to Yumichika, who had not gone in the water at all, and Rangiku. They laid in silence, which must have been some sort of record for Rangiku. The silence was nice and gave her time to recap the day's events and enjoy them all over again, until her mind was brought back to her usual thoughts.

She had been thinking about how much she loved Dondochakka and Pesche and how incomplete she would be without the two. They were like her brothers, sometimes she find herself wondering if they were in fact her siblings. Which then led to her lost memories.

Nel remembered the first day she woke up very clearly, and she remembered even more clearly the story Dondo and Pesche had told her of how they had met when she asked.

Apparently Nel had saved the two boys from a burning apartment building. Their parents had perished in the fire and they had no other family. The two had told her how she had opened her own house to them and had humbly told them that they were able to stay as long as they wished.

They had planned to move out eventually but the three became fast friends. Nel had kept them out of her business life but had taught them self-defense and combat on the side. They never moved out, and now... It had been three years since she lost her memory, and although she can't recollect anything from before those three years, she knew she had known them for the seven they had claimed.

"Lets go in the water, I'm burning up up here." Rangiku fanned herself dramatically.

"I think it feels nice," Nel admitted, not wanting to break the silence just yet.

"Aw you're no fun!" Rangiku whined and turned her head to Yumichika.

When Yumichika opened his eyes he saw a smirking Rangiku staring at him, "Oh no you don't, I still have five minutes left on this side and then it is ESSENTIAL that I flip so I'm evenly and beautifully tanned to perfection! It is an art th-"

His next words were muffled by a mouth full of sand as Rangiku had begun dragging the pretty boy in the sand towards the water.

He spit the sand out of his mouth, "Rangiku! You giant-boobed imbecile!" He spit some more sand out, "You're getting me all icky and sandy!"

They had reached the water's edge, "Oh no you don't! I am NOT going into that unsanitary feces infested swamp!" He squealed and thrashed trying to get away.

"Oh come on! The water feels great! Besides you look perfect enough already." She said pulling Yumichika along as if he were a weightless.

His whole demeanor shifted, "Aw Ranny! You really think so? Oh that's so gorgeous of you!" He hugged her leg as she continued to walk into the water.

Nel giggled a little to herself at the scene the two had made.

Maybe she would go in the water. The thought of sulking in the sand about her unrecovered memories didn't seem as appealing as she thought it would be. She pushed herself up off her towel and stretched.

"Why hello there beautiful lady," came an unfamiliar voice from behind her.

Nel spun around and was forced to lower her gaze down a bit to stare at the young man who had said something so incredibly corny, "Yes?"

He looked really pleased with himself, "Wow I didn't even have to ask you out and your already saying yes, man am I good or what? The name's Di Roy," he said puffing out his chest, "And whats a bodacious babe like you doing on the beach?"

_"Did he just say bodacious babe?"_ Nel bit back a chuckle, "That's an interesting question. You say it like its unnatural for me to be on the beach."

"Ooh, a brainy one, I like 'em smart." He reached forward and placed a hand on Nel's hip, pulling her body closer to his, "Wanna teach me something new later tonight?" He said.

Oh Nel was having too much fun with this. She watched the kid's eyes bulge out of his head when she placed her own palm on his chest.

She smiled at him, and traced her fingers up to his neck. She bent forward and whispered in his ear, "How about now?" Her fingers traced circles on the skin of his neck.

She watched as he visibly gulped, and began stuttering, "Uh-uhm-h-here, Y-y-yeah."

"Good," she whispered back, "because I don't think I could wait till tonight." Her fingers traced down the length of his arm to the hand that was clutching her hip nervously.

Her loving caress turned into a firm grip as she ripped his hand from her hip and balled the fist of her other hand, launching it into his jaw.

Before she could start up her innocent girl act again a firm hand gripped the kid's shoulder, "The hell are you doin' makin' an ass of yourself Di Roy? At least Yylfordt knows whats in his league ya damn idiot."

Neliel was only slightly surprised to find the hand belonged to Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. She figured he would be associated with someone who was so sex-starved.

Di Roy only responded by drooling.

"Agh, and now your droolin' on me!" Grimmjow shoved the boy towards the bar on the beach, "Get outta here."

Di Roy had stumbled back towards the bar, and when he was out of sight a small voice made Grimmjow turn around.

"Why'd you do that? I was just starting to have fun."

He turned to see the woman that haunted him standing there. Her green hair shifted slightly with the calm breeze from the sea. She was wearing a white bikini that fit her figure _very _ nicely, Grimmjow had noted. She was making a rather annoying pouty face.

Grimmjow smirked, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth, "Are you a feminist or something? First you flaunt your feigned superiority over me and now I find you enjoying putting a man in his place."

Neliel shut her eyes and turned her nose up, folding her arms underneath her breasts, "I don't know whatever you mean."

Grimmjow exhaled a puff of smoke, "So you stalkin' me then or somethin'? I mean first in an alleyway and now at the beach." He said smirking perversely.

She put her hands on her hips, "I am not!" For some reason the jab had bothered her a bit, she dramatically pointed behind her to a group of people who were calling for her, "I'm here with friends you desperate fool!"

"Desperate?" He took a few steps in her direction, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'll have you know I could get any of these women on this entire beach, woman!"

Her friends were now yelling loudly for her to come join them, "Oh get over yourself _Simba_, everything that the light touches is NOT yours." She leaned forward in his face.

He laughed loudly, she was one quick-witted bitch. Her friends did a countdown then all five of them shouted her name as loud as they could, interrupting Grimmjow.

She turned her back to him, "I'm coming you impatient-" She began to yell.

Grimmjow stood staring at her back, not believing his own eyes, before he could stop himself he asked, "Where'd you get that tattoo?"

Neliel stopped yelling and visibly stiffened. She swallowed. Took a deep breath. Then exhaled. "I don't know," she answered honestly, albeit shakily.

She slowly turned back around to face him. He stood there with a hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans, "You... don't know?" Grimmjow exhaled another puff of smoke and gave her a "yeah-right" look. Although his look of shock was mostly gone, in his eyes it remained.

She glared at the smoke that was polluting the air, "Look, I don't even know you. And my friends are waiting for me, So I'll see you later _Grimmjow_." She said as she turned to walk away once more.

He had to think fast. "Oh, uh, Hey! Wait!" She turned her head to look at him, "You goin' to _The Black Cat_ this Saturday?" Everyone and their mother was going to the new club opening up this Saturday, since he could see Nel was semi-normal and had friends... She would most likely be going.

She seemed to be taken aback by his question, "Probably, I'm good friends with the owner."

He exhaled more smoke into the air, "Well I'll see you then, _Neliel._" he said attempting to regain his confidence, and turned to leave.

"One more thing, _Grimmjow._"

He turned back around to see her striding up to him. "Yeah?"

She stood before him, and locked eyes with him. He really didn't understand what she was doing but if this was a staring contest... He definitely wasn't going to lose.

He watched her delicate hand stretch towards his face, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to effectively stand up, until she grabbed the cigarette that dangled out of his mouth.

With her other hand she grabbed his hand that gripped his beer bottle.

And in a split second his a snuffed out smoke rose from his half empty beer bottle, "That's not a good habit, and they make you smell like a burning building."

His eyes widened at her choice of words.

Neliel seemed to ignore it and began walking away, "Maybe I'll see ya Saturday, _Grimmjow_."

He didn't respond and only watched as the number three on her back began to slowly sink into the rising water. When the tattoo disappeared he let out the breath that he had been unknowingly holding in.

* * *

It was around dusk when Grimmjow had pulled into his apartment complex.

He began quickly taking his shirt off the second he was inside his apartment. By the time he had reached the long mirror in his room, the shirt had been discarded. He turned his back to the mirror and gazed at the tattoo that was located in the middle of his back and off to the right. His eyes raked over the number six that was etched into him.

_"Thought so," _Grimmjow had tried to reason with himself that maybe the tattoo of hers was different, that it might just be a coincidence. A pain burned in his skull, reassuring him that the migraine was still tugging at the chords of his mind. That's it then, the tattoo on her back was indeed the mark of Sosuke Aizen, the mark of an Espada.

He had felt like an infant, a child clinging to something when he had asked her whether she was going to the opening of _The Black Cat_. But when he saw the tattoo, his brain had acted on autopilot. Effectively making him look like an affectionate bastard. He was mad at himself for a while after he had blurted the question out.

Now as he gazed at the tattoo that almost perfectly matched Neliel Tu Oderschvank's he felt the necessity of figuring out who she was weighing heavily on his mind.

Another thing he had noticed today, was when he gazed at her there were some distinct differences between the her and the one he had regrettably dreamed up. Trying to picture any kind of image in his mind was hard now, everything seemed foggy due to his severe migraine.

The thing was... nothing added up. Absolutely nothing. Aizen finds three guards with broken necks from the night Grimmjow was almost killed. He tells only the elite five Espada. Then Nnoitra rattles on about how he knows who it is. Now that Grimmjow knew Neliel had the mark of an Espada he had deduced that she was most likely the person Nnoitra had spoken of.

From what he heard from Nnoitra, he did not seem to favor Neliel Tu Oderschvank. The fact that Aizen only told the elite five and the fact that Nnoitra seemed to harbor some sort of deep hatred for Neliel led Grimmjow to believe she was not on good terms with Las Noches at all.

So that added up, but then when you threw in the fact that she had openly given him her name, taken him into her home, healed him, and actually saved him it no longer made sense. He was sure she was familiar with the uniform they wore, since the night he was knocked out he had remembered her turning his jacket inside out without even thinking. So she should know who he worked for... right? Why would she walk around in public with bright turquoise hair when she was being hunted by Aizen. Why would she walk around with the distinct red tattoo on her face? Why would she ever allow her Espada rank tattoo to be seen?

And if the tattoo was indeed real... what of her rank? She was one of the elite five, number three in fact.

Grimmjow pulled at his own hair to ease the throbbing of his head, there were too many questions that only led to more. Answers were nowhere to be seen and his headache only grew and grew until he felt like his skull was going to explode.

He needed fresh air.

He walked out to his personal balcony and began climbing the small ladder that led to the rooftop. Rain clouds had gathered themselves on the coast line. Any moment it was going to pour.

He wouldn't let the dream catch him by surprise. If it was inevitable he would have a plan.

He stood on the rooftop, feeling more at ease.

A small conversation with his boss rang out in his head, a vibrating pain along with it.

_"Why the hell do I need to learn to move on the rooftops?" Grimmjow had said during his training in becoming an Espada._

_"The rooftops are key for fast traveling, easy access, and an easy escape route in this enormous city." Aizen replied professionally, "And also... you Arrancars and Espada are very... different from average humans. You have suffered much and have learned to overcome your suffering and become stronger. You have fueled your suffering into honing your pure will to rise above an opponent. You are stronger than the opponent because you want to be stronger than the opponent, your will is what conquers an opponent not your fist." Aizen finished._

_"The fuck's that got to do with parkour training and freerunning?" Grimmjow questioned annoyingly._

_"Ah, my dearest Grimmjow. A tall building is no more different from an opponent wielding a knife. An Arrancar or an Espada will always feel more at ease the closer they are to the top. An Espada will always strive to become stronger, learning every ability they can to achieve the top."_

"SHUTUP!" Grimmjow fell to his knees tearing at his soft blue locks trying to knock Aizen's voice out of his head and the pain that reverberated along with it through his skull.

The rain had begun to fall, but instead of feeling refreshing it felt as if he was being pelted with icy daggers.

He finally fell into blackness, defeated.

Off in the distance on an adjacent rooftop a figure dressed in black watched the scene unfold. When the blue-haired man had collapsed on the rooftop the figure relaxed but did not move from its location.

* * *

Ulquiorra Schiffer wasn't a very emotional person. So when he was assigned to Grimmjow's sector he honestly didn't really care. He didn't care that the blue-haired man was trash yet somehow the talented Dr. Inoue was infatuated by him. He didn't care that Nnoitra Jiruga was brooding at that very moment about Ulquiorra receiving the honor of hunting _her_.

What he did care about was executing his job to the letter. He would not return empty-handed like the excuse of a fifth Espada.

_"Ah, Ulquiorra, I summoned you so that I may speak with you before you leave on your scouting mission." Aizen smiled at the fourth Espada._

_"Of course Lord Aizen. What do you require of me?" Ulquiorra chose to stand instead of sitting in the chair offered for him._

_"I will keep this short and to the point, since I know you are eager to begin. This message is meant for you, and you alone. I am aware that there are rumors among the elite five that _she _was the one responsible for the three deaths early Monday morning." Aizen began to pace slowly with his hands behind his back._

_Ulquiorra's eyes showed a subtle hint of shock, "If it is her Lord Aizen, I will ensure that I return with her head as a promise of her demise."_

_"See I suspected that you, my most loyal Espada, would promise this," Aizen stopped pacing and turned to face Ulquiorra, "I would like to suggest that you do not make any contact with her, I would like for you to observe her for the time being."_

_"As you wish, Lord Aizen." Ulquiorra responded unphased._

_"You are dismissed."_

He stood erect with his hands flat at his sides as the elevator addressed him and he clicked the appropriate buttons.

His face was blank, devoid of emotion, when truly he was feeling rather annoyed. Annoyed that he'd have to go and speak with the head of the technology department, the eighth Espada, Szayel Aporro Granz. The man was trash.

He exited the elevator and entered the insufferable man's office.

"Ah, Ulquiorra, How are you this evening?" Szayel swiveled in his chair facing away from the large computer screen to greet the black-haired Espada.

"I am adequate, where is Murcielago?" He responded robotically.

Szayel smiled, "Always so eager to get the job done? Hm... How interesting, I can't help but wonder why you would need Murcielago for a simple scouting mission... Unless Lord Aizen has some other plans for you?" Szayel's smile widened at the conspiracy of it all.

"I do not have the time for your idle questioning Szayel. I will ask once more, where is Murcielago?"

"Oh come now number four, I was only having a little fun," He rose from his seat and unlocked a large safe and inside sat a four-foot long brief case. Szayel began walking back to his chair, uninterested, "You'll notice I enhanced the scope a bit and the recoil should be barely even noticeable."

Ulquiorra stepped into the safe and opened the briefcase. A, roughly, three and half-foot long, pitch black sniper rifle sat inside the velvet lined case. On the side of the rifle the name "Murcielago" was engraved in bright green.

He automatically lifted the weapon from its case and pulled the strap over his head, securing the rifle on his back. Closing the safe, he turned to leave.

As he was walking out he heard the infuriating pink-haired Espada speak, he cocked his ear to him.

"Oh and if you see Grimmjow," Szayel said with a sneaky grin on his face, "Won't you tell him his Pantera is repaired."

Ulquiorra just turned his head in response and continued walking.

"Oh and it seems our Dr. Inoue," Szayel smiled evilly when Ulquiorra stopped in his tracks, "would like to check up on his wounds as well, seems she just can't get her fix..."

Ulquiorra's back stiffened, if that were even possible, "I am of the elite five, I am not some errand boy for a mere number eight or number six." He disappeared around the corner.

Szayel chuckled.

* * *

There really wasn't room for any complaints. The day had been wonderful. Soaking up the warm sun on the beach, idiotic water fights in the sea, volleyball in the sand. And to top it off they had gone to a _Lily's On the Beach_ for dinner.

But no matter the day, no matter the amount of fun she had, for the past three years Neliel had felt empty.

She told herself every morning and every night that she should live in the here and now and make new memories in place of those she had forgotten. _Those that were stolen from her._

She could go whole weeks living with her advice. She would ignore her feelings of emptiness, attempt to block out the buzzing in her head caused by familiar faces. But in the end she was only human, and she had her limits.

She had laid herself down for bed a hour ago. Which in Nel-trying-to-sleep time that really wasn't very long. Ikkaku, Yumichika, Dondo and Pesche were still downstairs. The loud booming of the surround sound told her that the four were watching some cheesy war movie.

One pale hazel eye peeked open followed by the other. A heaving sigh broke the silence of her darkened room.

Shoving the covers off of her body, she placed two sock-covered feet on the carpet. She massaged her own scar and closed her eyes.

The buzzing was just too much, and for some reason she found herself in a predicament that had been repeated many times before.

She felt like there was _something_ she was supposed to be doing. Something that was very important. A matter of life and death.

Her scar ached.

She instinctively grabbed a pair of tennis shoes and slide them onto her feet. It was a little breezy outside so she threw on a gray hoodie over her tank top and cotton shorts, she tugged the hood of her jacket over her long hair.

Silently and slowly she lifted her bedroom window pane up, the slight breeze blew into her room, ruffling her curtains and gently playing with her long hair. She locked the window in place and climbed out of the second story bedroom.

She landed with a soft thud and automatically began walking in the direction of the looming skyscrapers that seemed to hold up the night sky. The moon was bright tonight, it wasn't full, but its light shone through the dense rain clouds.

She reached the bus stop in time to catch it before it departed. She hopped on, paid the fee and took a spot near the back.

Laying her head against the window of the bus, she gazed out into the darkness. It had rained earlier and surely it was going to rain again by the look of the clouds hanging in the sky.

Nevertheless, the game had begun. She could feel the growing need in her mind. Her brain was tugging at her, trying to tell her something. It was as if her body and her brain were two separate entities. Her mind was like the puppeteer and she was the puppet.

The puppeteer was pulling the strings and Neliel was left only to watch and wonder. She could almost hear the plucking of the strings that controlled her body.

The rain had begun to fall, a slow drizzle that was bound to turn into a full-blown thunderstorm.

The plucking sounded, her hand pulled on the lever. The bus stopped and she abandoned the vehicle, stepping out into the drizzling rain.

Another pluck. She approached a tall grey apartment building and climbed. She couldn't recall ever having been to the apartment building.

On the third floor of the fire escape, Nel aimed her gaze upwards and estimated that there were about twenty stories. Closing her eyes, she inhaled a deep breath, raindrops falling on her face.

She continued at a running pace until she reached the roof. Placing her hands on her knees she took another few breaths until the pluck of another chord resonated within her.

Her eyes shined with determination as she ran off the ledge of the building.

She didn't know if there was a rooftop below her, or if there was one, how far down it was. Or how far away. These questions never even graced her mind.

She landed sturdily on her feet and continued running.

Nothing was left in her. Emptiness had settled in and the plucking of the chords was all that remained. There was no fear, no emotion at all, only cold hard determination, and will.

The rain picked up, and the wind blasted her hood off of her hair, allowing it to flow wildly behind her.

After five minutes of running she landed herself on a building that was indeed familiar.

She had known it all along. She knew where her mind wanted to take her, just not the route in which it chose.

The plucking had stopped, the strings laid limp, the puppeteer had retreated back into the murkiness of her own mind.

Emotions returned, but the emptiness was never filled.

Her eyes shut tight as she stood in the center of the rooftop. Rain drenching her clothes and hair. Her nostrils flared briefly.

Her memory... _"Blackness is all I can see."_

"WHO AM I?!" her own scream had startled her.

She opened her eyes and stared up into the sky where the moon partially concealed itself behind the clouds.

The clouds began drifting apart and the moon could be seen in full view.

She closed her eyes as hard as she could. Tears fell from her own eyes and meddled with the rainwater that laid upon the surface of her skin.

Her memory... It was so black. A terrifying darkness that seemed to consume any thought. There was nothing. She sat in the darkness of her lost past, until something appeared.

It was very faint. It had no shape, it was fast and moved all about the darkness. A flickering light, a beacon inside of her mind. It was not stable, but it was there.

Her eyes shot open in disbelief.

The rain had continued to pour but the clouds remained stationary.

That was when she saw it. On a rooftop far in the distance, thirty stories above her was a small object reflecting the light of the moon. She knew what it was, and immediately she bolted.

_Sniper._

* * *

The black figure was terribly bored. Its eyes never left the unconscious man on the adjacent building.

The black figure had retreated to a spot behind an air duct, to keep a good watch on the figure but also remain unseen.

The figure was gazing off at the skyline of the city through the rain, when it sensed movement on the opposite building. Immediately it trained its eyes on the blue-haired man. When he saw the man sit up and rub his eyes, the figure retreated.

* * *

_He appeared before the burning cabin once more._

_The teal haired woman stood in the roiling turbulence of the flames. She extended her palm to him._

_Her eyes conveyed the longing he had seen before. He resisted the urge to react on instinct._

_He stared right back into hers and took in her form._

_She was very different from the real Neliel Tu Oderschvank. Dream Neliel had eyes that were longing but full of life and experience. Although she seemed younger._

_She was shorter, there was no magenta tattoo underneath her eyes and her bust was much smaller._

_She was... younger._

_He gazed at her extended hand and heard himself ask her, "What do you want?"_

_She remained unmoving, a statue, nothing but her eyes shone otherwise._

_He had sat down in the grass and watched the building burn. He spent a long time analyzing dream Neliel. He shouted at her but she never so much as flinched._

_He couldn't take it anymore and dove into the fire once more. He found himself staring at the teal hair woman being burned alive once more, two tears rolling down her cheeks._

Grimmjow sat up, his clothes were drenched but the rain had begun to slow down. He rested one forearm on his bent knee and pressed his free hand to his forehead.

He closed his eyes tight.

The words he spoke were so faint that as soon as they were uttered the wind whipped them away as if they were never spoken.

_"What do you want Neliel?"_

* * *

**AN **: Okay, quick question to readers/reviewers, I'm considering changing this rating to M. I realize Grimmjow drops the f-bomb all the effing time. What? Don't look at me, its not my effing fault! ;D But anyways I wanted to know what you all think about me changing it to M, and I was also thinking that some form of lemon MAY enter the storyline, whether or not it'd be full blown or not idk. Anyways... So next chapter there is a LOT of Grimmjow and Neliel interactions. So hopefully that'll please you all. Woooooooooooooooh. So much writing. I hope you all enjoyed, and please please please reviews are like nutrients for proper chapter growth. So don't neglect! ;c

** nokturnallight** - Hey! I really appreciate that you came back and reviewed! It totally means a lot, and I wanted to let you know that you were the reason that I started posting status updates of chapters on my personal profile, so if you ever are like "Hrm wher da fux dat chapter be?" you can just check out my profile for info! ;D p.s. you may think your reviewer senses aren't working right since obviously there was no club scene in this. I will give you a teensy weensy spoiler, you're just a little early on that prediction. Ooh I may have said too much. Anyways, thanks a ton!

Love,

cube V.


	5. Scars That Never Heal

**AN : **Hello readers & reviewers! Its nice to see you all again so soon :p So a couple of things, first of all this chapter is long as shit, so your welcome. Secondly, I've changed the rating to M because I feel like my language and future situations aren't exactly T-rated suitable. Meh, whatevz. Umm what else? The plot is thickening, yay! Hm, I always forget what I want to put in my ANs, oh well. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer :** Don't own bleach bitchez ;D

* * *

Neliel realized that free-running across foreign rooftops with full control of her own body was rather difficult. Well at least while trying to evade a sniper.

That was another thing... _"Why the hell is there a sniper?"_

She wasn't all too sure if she wanted to honestly know the answer to that question. She could assume that they were targeting or waiting for someone else, but her gut told her differently. The fact that they hadn't shot could either mean they had never intended to, or maybe they were just a terrible aim.

She continued to run, jumping off rooftops, climbing up walls until she finally found a fire escape to get on lower ground where the buildings would cover her escape.

With luck, she caught the bus before it left the bus stop.

By the time she arrived home she was beat. It was quite late now, she had gotten lost a few times on which stop to get off of before she managed to get it right.

So the two story house that sat in the distance in an abandoned area was a very refreshing sight. She took a running start and ran up the wall of her house, grabbing onto the ledge her open window created.

Quietly, she slipped herself through her window and closed it without making so much as a squeak.

Kicking off her shoes, she let out a long sigh, she was glad to be home.

Walking into her bathroom, she pulled the hoodie over her head and tossed it onto the tile. The rest of her clothes landing in the pile, she leaned over the tub to turn on the hot water.

The loud sounds of rushing water filled the small space of the bathroom, Nel stood in front of the mirror gazing at herself. Her pale hand raised apprehensively to her forehead and pushed her bangs to the side of her face. She leaned closer to the mirror to inspect the full-length of her scar.

For the first time since the morning she had awoken in the hospital, she placed her pinky finger on the pink surface, stroking it. Her eyes immediately closed, plunging her into darkness once more as she tried to recollect her lost memories. She was, at first, disappointed that the light that had so colorfully dotted the emptiness was missing.

It wasn't too long before it lit, from a microscoping dot to a very small unsteady flame. Like a small candle in the darkness. It would fade out and reappear in another location at speeds her eyes could not keep up with. She was only offered glimpses of the peculiar flickering light.

It was blue in color, a very faint blue, and resembled the flickering flame of a small tea light. The color was interesting. Calming like the waves of the ocean, but also energetic and powerful like a distant burning star in space. It was trying so hard to illuminate the darkness, but the light was so small, and the unknown shadows so large. It tried to compensate for its size by moving about speedily, trying to light the many corners of her locked memories. Its minute energy was just not enough to set the void ablaze.

Her eyes opened slowly to see a very curious sight. In the mirror, staring back at her was the smallest of smiles gracing her own lips.

Turning off the water, she stepped into the steaming bath, groaning quietly as she entered. She laid her head against the back of the tub, pondering if she was going insane. Maybe she was mentally exhausting herself with trying to remember her past. Maybe the memories were, indeed, lost.

As she washed herself and soaked in the warmth of the bath, she realized she didn't care. At this point she just needed a sign of progress, insanity was almost welcome. The blue light was something, _anything_, to release her from the darkness she was thrown into.

* * *

It wasn't until ten in the morning that Grimmjow became aware of a very peculiar fact.

As per the usual he had cracked open a beer as opposed to the average person's morning coffee, sprawled himself across his black suede couch and mindlessly watched the television.

The thought had hit him like a bus full of children.

He never talked to Szayel about changing the time logs.

Which in turn Aizen should have figured out by now that Grimmjow had been lying. There was no chance that Aizen hadn't checked the time logs after he had been so suspicious of the three guards that were reported having their necks broken.

So why in fuck's name had no one come for him?

He silently cursed the stupid useless talking elevators. The arrancars were told that the fingerprinting system of the elevator was created as a security reason. So that anyone who tried to infiltrate Las Noches would be unable too. Of course Aizen never mentioned that it actually retained the data that the user keyed in. So the elevator tracked every floor every arrancar had been, making it easy surveillance.

The ringing of his cell phone shot him out of his mental dilemma. He grabbed the device off of the table and looked at the number, it was Szayel. Well he was about to get his answer either way. He took a deep breath.

"Yeah?" Grimmjow answered, attempting to sound normal.

"Hello, hello Six. How are you this fine morning?" A cheery voice responded.

"Fine. What did you need Szayel?"

"Hm, well I'm doing great, although I forgive you for not asking." He laughed airily, "So you haven't received a call from our broody little number four?" Szayel smiled wickedly.

"The fuck did you tell him this time?" Grimmjow couldn't help but smirk at Ulquiorra. He was so much fun to fuck with.

"Oh do I sense a bit of anger Grimmy? Well I can't help myself, its just so much fun to poke fun at him!" Szayel laughed loudly, "But I repaired Pantera. You might want to consider washing that disgusting thing more regularly. I mean I know you think of the blood of your opponents as like a trophy or some obscure idea like that but really that's why the blades were jammed. It was rather disgusting. Oh and when you arrive don't forget to bring my package, its been three days already and if you treat it anything like Pantera-"

Grimmjow his eyes and cut him off, "Anything else?"

There was a small pause, and when Szayel spoke again, his voice was much more serious, "It seems our dear Dr. Inoue is very faithful, coming all the way to your _home_ Sunday night when you were injured."

So somehow Szayel found out. Then again he should have expected as much coming from Dr. Inoue. "Well it is her job."

"I don't know I'd say that's a little above and beyond the call of duty..." Szayel replied, now just teasing the blue-haired man, "Did you _reward_ her?"

"Szayel, I swear you gossip like a damn woman." Grimmjow responded angrily.

Szayel chuckled, "I'll see you later Grimmjow. Oh and I would steer clear of Ulquiorra, he's most likely not very happy with you." He hung up.

"Tch," Grimmjow groaned. He didn't want to know what the pink-haired eigth Espada had said about him to Ulquiorra to set him off. For the longest time Ulquiorra was a blank, there wasn't anything you could say to piss the guy off. He just didn't care, until word got around that Grimmjow and the Inoue had shared a night together. Ever since then it was fun to push his buttons to prove that he was a human and not some kind of robot cyborg.

Deciding to push away thoughts of work early in the morning, Grimmjow submerged himself into the television. Well at least he tried, but something kept worming its way into his thoughts.

Surrendering, he closed his eyes, and laid his head back on the couch.

Her form was conjured in his mind, a little white bikini fit snugly on her hips, showing enough skin to be alluring but also hid enough to keep his imagination going.

He was lifting his hand to tug loose the strings of her bottoms, and watching them fall off her body. His arms would snake around her, bodies brushing against each other, she'd be sweating, breathless, moaning...

"Damnit," he clenched his teeth not feeling enough willpower to open his eyes. He could feel himself hardening.

He mentally told himself to think about something else, his first priority was figuring out this dream, whatever the fuck it was.

He had to admit that he wasn't a very creative or imaginitive person. But what his mind had summoned was one hell-

_"Stop," _he told himself once more.

He remembered her back in the distance, slowly entering the undulating surface of the ocean, her tattoo disappearing into the obscurity of the water. Grasping at anything to rid his mind and body of his carnal desires, he thought about the mark. She was an Espada, number three in fact, Tier Halibel's rank. He wondered what her Apect of Death was when she worked for Aizen. Although he respected the fellow warrior's abilities, he couldn't think of her having enough brutality to be an Espada. Not that he really even knew her.

His chain of thoughts led him somewhere to begin his investigation. He couldn't help but smile at the chance to uncover even a sliver of information on the mysterious woman.

* * *

Spending most of the day lounging around, Grimmjow was actually happy to get out of the apartment, even if he was heading to Las Noches. He had exercised on the roof of his apartment for a bit, but he found his thoughts had distracted him from doing much of anything that required a certain amount of focus through out the day.

Grimmjow exited the elevator and stepped onto the fourth floor, technology department. Walking through various hallways, he found the white door with the golden plate that read, "Head Tech., Szayel Aporro Granz," and entered.

Szayel sat at his desk in front of an enormous computer eating a pink sprinkled donut delightfully.

"Grimmjow! Ah, Its good to see you! So when's the wedding?" Szayel clasped both hands around his donut, holding it in front of his face, batting his eyelashes.

"Can it Szayel," Grimmjow looked around the room and threw Szayel the package he had been complaining about earlier.

Szayel caught the package and could tell what he was doing, "If you're wondering whether or not I disabled the cameras then your stupid." He looked at Grimmjow out of the corner of his eye, "You and I both know that I want _all_ the details."

Grimmjow sighed and sat down on a nearby desk, "A favor for a favor then?"

Szayel chuckled and inspected the package Grimmjow had tossed him, "A favor? Well Mr. Six, I'm pretty sure I've already done you a favor."

Grimmjow leaned foreward, his forearms resting on his thighs, "Not big enough for the whole story." An evil little smile appeared.

"Oh? Its really that big? Oh, how exciting! Do tell!"

But before Grimmjow could reply Szayel asked, "Why does my package smell like its been sitting behind a dumpster for hours?" He opened the package and took out the plethora of different gadgets that were used to override systems, cut power, and many other things.

Grimmjow just rolled his eyes and ignored the eighth, "So there's rumors going around the elite five, ya hear 'em yet?" He leaned forward and stole a glazed donut out of the box.

"Well, I suspected something was up... But Ulquiorra isn't exactly very talkative when he's sulking over a certain woman." The two shared a chuckle.

"Anyways," he said taking a bite into the donut, "Are you familiar with a Neliel Tu Oderschvank?"

Szayel's eyes lit up a bit, "The former third? Sort of, she is dead is she not?"

Grimmjow inspected his donut, "Well I ran into her on my patrol this past Sunday." He avoided telling him the fact that she had saved his life, out of pride, "Anyway, I don't know the bitch, but I overheard Nnoitra and Tesla talkin' about Ulquiorra being sent to hunt someone down..."

When Grimmjow looked up he was taken aback by how shocked Szayel appeared, "What?"

Szayel locked eyes with Grimmjow, "You're absolutely... positively, sure she was alive and walking?"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, "I'm pretty sure she wasn't a damn zombie." Grimmjow averted his eyes from the eighth Espada, "Why do you seem so shocked?"

Szayel seemed to be thinking deeply, "Well you see when I was first hired by Aizen, I didn't know much of the Espada, actually I didn't know any of them really. When I became an Espada, that very same day, a woman named Neliel Tu Oderschvank was reported to have been killed in a fight to the death by the current third Espada, Tier Halibel."

Grimmjow's eyes widened, "The hell?"

Szayel's shocked expression disappeared and was replaced with a look of plotting, "Well, well, Lord Aizen, what are you covering up?"

Grimmjow hopped off the desk and dusted his hands off, "This is where your favor comes in."

Szayel swiveled around in his chair to face Grimmjow, "And what would you ask of me?"

"I'm going to break into Aizen's office, but I need you to clear any digital evidence I'll leave behind. I want to know what he has on the former third. In exchange I'll share all the-"

"Juicy bits!" Szayel interrupted clapping his hands together excitedly.

"...Yeah, the um, juicy bits... Anyways, so can you manage that?"

Szayel turned up his nose, "You ask it as if I'm incapable. I have another teensy weensy bit of info for you Jaegerjaquez."

The blue-haired man had started walking towards the safe where he knew Pantera was locked. It was pretty common for him to break Pantera so he and Szayel had become decent acquaintances.

"Yeah?" Grimmjow began entering the numbers into the keypad.

"Lord Aizen is currently on a sudden business trip, so if you plan on breaking in, tonight would be most preferrable." Szayel said examining his fingertips.

"Sudden business trip huh? Where to?" Grimmjow had opened the safe and found a small box inside.

"He didn't say, I suppose he might have told his precious elite five, but for us nobodies it seems to be confidential." He flipped his pink hair.

Grimmjow unlatched the small box to reveal two glove-like weapons. The gloves were a hard material that was molded perfectly for Grimmjow's hand size. In between each of the knuckles was a small retractable blade.

He slipped the gloves onto his hands and balled his fists. The once barely visible blades arose from between his fingers and resembled claws, "I see."

Szayel never bothered to upgrade Pantera. The first time Grimmjow broke Pantera, Szayel had done so and was rewarded with a really pissed off the Sixth. Grimmjow didn't want any fancy gadgetry, he just wanted the bloodiest way possible.

When Grimmjow turned around Szayel was standing in front of him holding out a folded slip of paper, he took it, "What's this?"

"The password to Aizen's computer, don't worry about the door, I can hack it from here. Should be able to get it open by the time you get there." Szayel said, pushing his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose.

"Alright then, I'll come back afterwards." Grimmjow said sliding Pantera off of his hands and back into its case.

"Don't forget, your future bride requests you in her office to check on your 'wounds'." He said in air quotes.

"Oh save it for Ulquiorra you perverted freak." Grimmjow stalked out of the Technology Department and into the elevator.

True to his word, Szayel had Aizen's office door open by the time Grimmjow had gotten to the seventh floor.

He had sat down in Aizen's office chair. It felt pretty expensive and was probably one of the most comfortable chairs he had ever planted his ass in.

Browsing through your boss' files turned out to be a lot more boring than movies had made it out to be. There was no exploding devices, or swat team on its way, or any other crazy scenario. Nope, it was just Grimmjow sitting in an annoyingly silent room clicking through file after file.

He had found the file on the Espada but it wasn't very descriptive. He figured he'd give it a go anyway and ended up finding a subfile titled "Neliel Tu Oderschvank".

Clicking it pulled up a disappointingly small report on her but he read through it anyways.

Neliel Tu Oderschvank was listed as the third Espada, _seven_ years ago. Aizen went into a little detail about how Neliel and Tier had shared the third spot. Until three years ago, when Tier Halibel challenged her to an Espada Ranked duel and _killed_ her.

That was all that was listed.

He locked the computer up and left Aizen's office.

As usual, many more questions arose while answers had evaded him. What the hell was the point of sharing the third spot? Doesn't make much sense.

But the thing that had irked him most of all was the fact that Tier Halibel had, what he assumed since she was still alive, attempted to kill her comrade at the time. That didn't sound like Halibel. Something was fishy about the whole situation.

When he had returned to Szayel there really hadn't been much information to relay outside of the two third ranked Espada had shared the seat for four years.

And now he was currently walking the path of doom to Dr. Inoue's office.

He opened the door without knocking as usual and found the chesty woman obviously waiting for him. She was lounging on the couch in her office, wearing a very tiny pencil skirt that showcased her legs. She had undid her blouse a few too many buttons to be considered even slightly professional. In fact he was pretty sure he could see a white lacy bra peeking out of the loose shirt.

Grimmjow sensed Szayel's doing in this, and a mental image of him strangling the eighth clouded his mind.

"Oh Grimmjow, I thought you had the week off?" She said trying to look dumb. Huh, ironic.

Grimmjow bit back any sarcastic comments mentioning how smooth the Doc. was.

"Yeah Szayel told me you told him to tell me to come in so you could check my wound." He figured he'd give it to her straight, that way he wasn't being an asshole but he was still catching her in her lie, effectively making her feel stupid.

_"Cue the embarrassed expression and creepy laugh,"_ he thought to himself.

Orihime Inoue scratched the back of her head and closed her eyes tightly, laughing uneasily. A light pink blush colored her cheeks.

"Oh well I forgot!" She stood up and motioned for him to follow her to a seat.

He took his pants off and refused to make eye contact with her wanting gaze. He sat on a seat and began unravelling the bandage for her while she stood gawking.

She snapped out of her daze and threw the dirty bandage away for him and grabbed her supplies in a nearby cabinet.

When he left her office he realized that seeing the orange-haired doctor twice in one week was way too much for his tastes. In the future, he'd try not get hurt as often or as severely. Unfortunately before he left her office, said doctor made sure he was well aware of their agreement, and then gave him her home address so he could pick her up.

The thought of taking Dr. Orihime Inoue on the back of his motorcycle to a club with his friends seemed like the worst idea he had ever had. And that coming from Grimmjow was saying something, since almost every hour of every day did a horrible idea pop into his head.

And then there was Neliel Tu Oderschvank. His thoughts of her were becoming increasingly sensual, and that along with the fact that she was quite literally haunting him was an inevitable mixture.

He would have to try and pawn the clingy doctor off on one of his friends. In the end his sexual fantasies involving Neliel were desirable but he had priorities, he needed to understand what was going on. Usually when drama or conspiracies popped up in his work place he didn't care. But the source of the conspiracy was a weakness. He would not be weak.

Grimmjow found himself briefly wondering if the attraction he was feeling towards her was connected to his dream. Maybe if he acted on it it would cure him.

Of course that was just the theory his lower half was trying to come up with.

* * *

Ever since evidence of Neliel Tu Oderschvank being alive was uncovered Nnoitra Jiruga had been really agitated. There were many reasons why he had been so irritated lately. For one, the honored fourth was given the duty of hunting _her_, while he was left with doing repulsive side-jobs. Not to mention the fact that Aizen had still not revealed any information on what was going on. And then there was the infernal elevator. Generally it was vacant, but now he stood waiting for the damn thing to reach his floor.

Finally the doors slid open and instead of the empty space he had hoped for, there stood a blue-haired Espada deep in thought.

That was an interesting sight in itself, usually Grimmjow was quick to tease and irritate people. But now he was calm and focused on something.

Nnoitra stepped into the elevator and was pretty positive that Grimmjow didn't notice him until the elevator confirmed his destination.

When the sixth Espada stepped out of the elevator, Nnoitra realized there was a smile on his own face.

He had a wonderful idea. If Aizen wasn't going to allow him to hunt the bitch down, then maybe a certain sixth would be able to help him out.

* * *

It was Friday and Nel had been having a relaxing coupe of days. Being a yoga instructor, Nel always found work to be pleasing since she enjoyed meditation and exercise. Although even when meditating Nel would find the black emptiness of her past tugging at her mind. As of late, the flickering light provided a comforting sensation when the looming darkness of her past interefered. Life had been nice lately, in turn, she had been spending more time with Dondochakka and Pesche.

Nel was expected to go shopping with Rangiku for an outfit for Saturday night. Shopping with Rangiku was always fun, and her friend provided her with honest opinions that were always helpful, but she tended to take the activity to a whole new level.

Nel held a strand of her hair in front of her face, watching as the sun light from the car window played on its surface accentuating the teal tones. Rangiku was rambling about something Nel didn't really pay attention to as they pulled into the mall parking lot.

Rangiku glanced over at an uninterested Nel, "So I meant to ask you, who was that blue-haired hottie at the beach the other day?"

Nel had been waiting for Rangiku to bring it up, it was in her nature of course, "I don't really know, but he asked me if I'd be at _The Black Cat_ Saturday." She said trying to sound aloof, staring out the window at the planted trees in the parking lot.

Pale blue eyes lit up, "Oh, fun! We'll HAVE to buy you something extra cute. You know though, I really think you should take it slower this time maybe?"

"Oh come on Ranny, its only logical. If I have a need I fill it, just like eating when you're hungry. Besides, he's more of a blue-haired annoyance than a 'hottie,' so I really wouldn't worry about my sex life on this one." Truth be told, the blue-haired annoyance was in actuality something that _may_ have passed through her mind _once_ or _twice_ while 'taking care of business.'

"You slut," Rangiku teased, pulling into a parking spot.

"Hey! I didn't say I just went around opening my legs for everyone, or better yet shoving my gigantic boobs in people's faces." She teased back.

Just being in proximinity of the mall caused Rangiku to launch herself out of her car, slam the door, and run towards the gigant building. Oh God, did shopping excite her.

"You know you're no fun. We both know that I'm not going to settle down for some dreamy guy, so the least you could do is make both of our lives a little more interesting with a serious relationship!" She said, throwing her purse over her shoulder.

"I'll pass," They had entered the automatic doors of the mall, "Oh look!" Nel pointed to Rangiku's favorite clothing store, quickly changing the subject.

"Oh goodie!" Rangiku dragged Nel towards the bright lights of the clothing store.

Rangiku loved to dress herself up. But in the end what the majority of the time was spent on was dressing Nel up like some life-sized doll. When Nel first met Rangiku, her invasiveness had bothered her. Now as she stripped off yet another dress Rangiku didn't like, she had accepted it as just another quirk to the blonde's personality.

"I don't know about you but the red clashes with your tattoo. And why are you wearing boy shorts? You need a thong for trying dresses on, I thought I taught you well!" Rangiku crossed her arms underneath her breasts.

Nel sighed and grabbed the next dress off the hanger, "Well I didn't know, I was kind of thinking of wearing pants." She muttered.

"Pants?! Are you joking, what are you? A lesbian? Should I buy you a pants suit?!"

"Oh shut up, straight women wear pants and dark jeans to the club." She said popping her head through the hole of the dress.

"Yes, but not any of Rangiku's friends will. Trust me if I could dress Yumichika in one I would. Ooh, that's pretty, I love that one!"

Nel laughed at her friend, "You think so?" She did a little twirl, "You're right, it fits very nicely."

The dress was tight, and mid-thigh length. It was white with a deep V neckline, the straps crossed in the back leaving some of her back bare.

"What is it with you and white though?" Rangiku said leaning on the wall of the dressing room.

Nel had turned around, baring her backside to the mirror, her eyes rested on her tattoo for a moment, "I guess its just a familiar," she said automatically.

* * *

Saturday morning Grimmjow awoke excited. His excitement had nothing to do with having to lug around Dr. Inoue, or having to confront Nel, since he had decided he would on some note.

Nope, he woke aroused.

Blue eyes eyes opened slowly taking in the afternoon sunlight that lit his bedroom. His hand instinctively rested on his erection.

He gazed out of the screen door of the balcony. Storm clouds were rolling in over the ocean.

Grimmjow couldn't remember the last time he had pleasured himself. It was a rule of his not to, he generally had no trouble coaxing a woman to share his bed. So in a sense he considered pleasing himself to be kind of, well, pathetic.

But this week had been taxing. Not that he had been really busy, just that he had passed out on several occasions over the week and deciphering his nightmare seemed to distract him from just about any activity. He hated feeling weak, but he hated even more not knowing how to fix his weakness.

Tonight he would find some way to confront her about this. He knew now that she was once apart of the Espada, maybe with a little threatening she may crack and divulge something.

Getting out of bed he went to the shower and turned on the water, letting it run ice cold.

By nine'o'clock Grimmjow had parked his bike on the curb of the street and dismounted it. Dr. Inoue was currently wrenching her head out of the helmet had had instructed her to wear. When she finally got it off she sighed and attempted to get off the bike.

She was having a difficult time but Grimmjow really wasn't paying any attention. He was too busy looking at the long line outside the club. At the front of the line stood Nakeem, checking ID's and letting people through.

Dr. Inoue finally managed to get off the bike only flashing half the line of people and muttered something about having helmet hair.

Grimmjow was glad that he knew the bouncers, because the line was ridiculous. He started off across the street chucking his cigarette butt on the ground with Orihime in tow.

She was wearing most likely the tiniest lavender dress out of any one he could see standing in line. He assumed she wore it for his attention but as usual he found it hard to find a fuck to give. Even with his pent up sexual frustration.

At the front of the line he could see a strawberry blonde woman who was wearing a black dress that quite rivalled the sluttiness of Orihime's. Next to the woman was just the person he was looking for.

He could only see the back of her but it was more than enough to push him back in the aroused state he had awoken in. Her teal hair was swept over her right shoulder revealing an almost backless white dress, her tattoo spanning the exposed skin. The material clung to her curves deliciously. He hadn't realized how fast he was walking towards his target until he heard Orihime jogging in her heels to catch up with him.

Neliel disappeared into the night club before he could make it to her.

He bypassed the line and approached his heavyset friend, "Hey Nakeem! They here yet?" He yelled pushing through the angry line.

Dr. Inoue had latched herself onto his bicep for more reasons than one.

"Grimm!" They clasped hands and bumped shoulders, "Yeah they're inside somewhere."

When they entered Grimmjow immediately scanned the club for teal hair. Finding no trace of the evasive woman, he settled for Di Roy being baptized by some girl's martini.

He walked towards his drenched friend with Orihime clinging to his shirt sleeve.

"Lets go dance, Grimmjow!" She yelled over the music, lightly tugging on his shirt.

"I don't dance, or at least not 'til I'm shit-faced." It was a half-lie, he would dance sometimes, but more often than not he would refuse unless being persuaded by large amounts of alcohol. And that wasn't even really dancing... more like having a seizure.

"Yo Di Roy, where's Shawlong?" Grimmjow grabbed the young man by his arm.

Before Di Roy responded long orange hair caught his eye, He pushed past Grimmjow, "Well hello, who is this?"

"She's Dr. Inoue," Grimmjow said uninterested, now having spotted his friends at a nearby booth, Edrad had conveniently stood near them while 'working'.

Di Roy took her hand in his, "It is a pleasure to meet you Dr. Inoue," he said in an all too cheesy manner. He planted one sloppy kiss on her knuckles.

Orihime blushed slightly and released her hold on Grimmjow, "Oh just call me Orihime, and you are Di Roy I think I hear Grimmjow say?"

"Ah yes, the one and only, my fair Orihime. Would you like to dance?"

Orihime looked at Grimmjow. He didn't even spare her a glance and began walking towards the booth, "That would be nice."

He kept and eye out for Neliel while his friends had been chatting and checking chicks out. He was having no luck locating the mysterious woman. He decided that if he was going to be stuck here he might as well enjoy it and get a drink. On top of that if Orihime was going to be here all night he would need one. He went to get up but fell back in his seat when a waitress had approached him with a tray in her hands.

He had just barely avoided colliding with her tray. The woman smiled a fake smile, reaching onto her tray setting down three shots of what appeared to be whisky, "Courtesy of the lady at the bar." The woman handed Grimmjow a folded napkin.

Grimmjow glanced over at the bar and saw various women, non of which were Neliel, "Which one?"

The woman turned around to look in the direction of the bar, "That's weird, she was just there a second ago..." She shrugged and walked off continuing her drink delivering.

Grimmjow pushed a shot over to Yylfordt and Shawlong and unfolded the napkin. Inside was three simple words.

"I see you," followed by a poorly drawn house cat.

So she was toying with him. She really did enjoy being a cut above the rest.

"Eugh, whisky! You're admirer could at least have better taste in alcohol-Eugh!" Yylfordt squinted at the strong flavor.

Shawlong had taken his shot with a lot more ease, "Oh I don't know, I think it says something if she's able to guess Grimmjow's favorite liquor the first time around." He said lifting his eyebrow towards his blue-haired friend.

Grimmjow threw his shot back, "Eh, whatever. I'm gonna go get a beer, want anything?"

"Just get a round," Shawlong called to Grimmjow.

It had been three hours with no sight of Neliel and Orihime was becoming unbarable. When sober, Orihime wore her emotions and intentions practically on her sleeve. When drunk, even a mentally challenged person could call her out. She had been trying to get him out on the dance floor for the entire night, and now her exasperation of Di Roy was quite obvious. During this time she had been begging Grimmjow to go dance with her. He himself had only had a few drinks, he briefly wondered how many it would actually take for him to say yes to that question.

The group had been standing on the outskirts of the crowded dance floor. Grimmjow, Shawlong, and Edrad had been joking around having a good time until Orihime interrupted him by tugging like a child on his shirt sleeve.

"Grrriiimmmyy, Lets go out on the dance flooorrrrr! I wanna dance, shake my booty!" Orihime whined.

"I told you a hundred times I'm not going out there, go find Di Roy.'' He said ignoring her and continuing his conversation with his two friends.

Orihime made a pouty face and stomped her heels. She snatched his hand and started pulling him out to the dance floor. He kept his feet planted and pulled back, they stood there playing tug of war.

A loud squeal sounded from behind the group, "OH I LOVE THIS SONG! Nellie come on!"

A very familiar blonde woman in a very small black dress limbo-ed under Grimmjow and Orihime's clasped hands. She sang along with the song and danced her way into the large crowd of people.

The groups attention shifted behind them when another squeal sounded, "Ranny! Wait for me you slut!"

There stood a slightly tipsy Neliel. She was watching the ground as she walked towards the dance floor. A black-haired man with a sixty-nine tattoo on the side of his face jogged up behind her and grabbed her hand tugging her towards the dance floor, "Come on Nel! Or we'll lose Rangiku!"

He tugged a little too hard and sent the teal-haired woman flying directly into a pouty Orihime.

She knocked the orange-haired doctor onto the ground of the dance floor, her body landing on top of her.

With a few grunts she managed to sit up on Orihime and peered down at the woman. And without much of a warning, took her face in her hands and... _kissed her_.

From Grimmjow to Edrad jaws dropped. Her black-haired friend seemed to be used to the behavior and smacked his palm to his forehead, "Give her a couple drinks and she's kissing everybody..." he muttered.

Nel released the girls face from her grip and giggled, "I'm so sorry for running into you!"

She patted her head and hauled herself off of the woman. "Rannny! Where'd you gooo!" She called into the crowded dance floor.

A strawberry-blonde head popped up in the crowd, "Right here Nellie, comeonnnn!"

Neliel giggled and started walking into the crowd, the man with the sixty-nine tattoo followed close behind her, his hand gripping her hip, "Sorry about her guys, she gets a little friendly after a couple of drinks!" He called back to the group she had run into.

And then she was gone.

"Orihime! Are you okay? I go to get us drinks for one second and someone pushed you down? Show me who it was, I'll beat the shit out of 'em!" Di Roy yelled.

Orihime was laying on the floor stunned by what had just happened.

Instead of helping her up, Grimmjow simply said, "I feel like dancing." And stepped into the crowd after the peculiar trio.

Grimmjow pushed through the sweaty bodies continuously scanning over top of the crowd for a teal head of hair. He didn't know why he didn't think of checking the dance floor first, of course, chicks always love to dance. He supposed trying to avoid Orihime could be part of the reason why.

In the distance he spotted her bright hair and pushed through the mass of people in that direction. When he found her she was dancing with the man with her tattooed friend. He stood behind her, holding her to him, and not far off was the busty blonde dancing with some average looking brunette he didn't recognize.

Neliel turned around and face the man she was dancing with. In the pit of his stomach, he felt a little disgusted, which was a feeling he decided would be best to not to explore further. Neliel started doing some cliché old dance move in a goofy manner and the man followed suit. They were laughing raucously and it was obvious the two were good friends. He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and he disappeared through the crowd.

That didn't damper Neliel's spirit though, she continued moving her body to the booming sounds of dance music. Grimmjow took a swig of his beer and took the opening, maneuvering his way behind her.

His empty hand lightly grasped her hip and pulled her to him, "So do you always make out with girls when you're drunk?" He said leaning forward placing his lips next to her ear.

Neliel giggled and leaned her head back on his chest, effectively resting the rest of herself on him, "I'm not drunk, and you saw that? I suppose I get a little _handsy _after a couple drinks."

Her hips continued to sway with the music, gently brushing against him, "That was my date you shoved on the ground and kissed." The scent of her hair wafted towards him.

Neliel's giggle turned into a full blown laugh, "Whoops, well I guess I'd be mad too if someone beat me to first base with my own date."

Grimmjow inhaled the scent, "I wouldn't call it anger, I've been trying to get rid of her all night." He leaned closer to her ear, his lips barely grazing the skin there, "Plus it was kind of hot."

His hot breath reached her ear, she reflexively shivered, "Seems like you managed to."

Grimmjow didn't miss her body's reaction. His body kept up with her's, swaying slightly. His hand gripped her hip a little tighter, thumbing the fabric beneath his fingers, "Thanks to you, you stunned the poor bitch."

Neliel shifted her head to rest against his shoulder, "So was I right?"

Grimmjow's eyes traced down her collarbone and straight to her cleavage, which he could see plenty of from his vantage point, he swallowed, "'Bout what?"

"I just figured you for a whiskey-kind-of-guy." She said and he felt a small hand caress his left thigh. Her body was still rubbing against his and he could see a small smirk on her face.

Grimmjow's hand had travelled further towards her stomach, "Oh right, I took that as you trying to flaunt your so-called dominance over me." He lifted his hand to take a swig of his beer.

Neliel saw the beer out of the corner of her eyes and snatched it from him. She spun around to face him and took a swig of his beer. Her left hand rested around the back of his neck, "How so?" she said her eyes never leaving his.

He felt himself stiffen at their face to face contact. She moved in closer and he hadn't realized that he was frozen solid until she grabbed one of his hands, placing both of them on her hips.

"You're like a wooden plank right now," She said and his eyes widened. She smirked and looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "I meant your _dancing_, loosen up a bit."

"You bitch," he said, his hands situating themselves on her lower back, "You like doing that don't you?"

Her breasts pressed up against his chest, "What?" He tried not to stare since she was now keeping a hazel eye on him, "Flaunting my so-called dominance?" She quoted, "Not really, you're just so hot-tempered and responsive, it's really rather fun."

Her body was pressed flat against his, his hand beginning it path down to her backside, "Oh I'll _show _you responsive."

He could feel the top of her panty-line through her dress. His eyes locked with hers and halted his travelling hand in its path. He gripped her lower back and angled his head next to her ear, "While I would love to play cat and mouse with you," he purred in her ear, "I have something I need to talk to you about."

He pulled away and her once playful eyes resembled something more akin to the eyes in his dreams. She nodded at his statement.

He released her and pushed through the crowd, she grabbed his wrist so that they wouldn't get separated.

* * *

As they weaved through the crowd of people towards the exit, Neliel couldn't help but replay the image of his eyes locking with hers when he had told her he needed to speak with her. They reminded her of _something_.

Fresh air, or as fresh as it gets in the city, swirled around the two as they exited the club. The rain clouds from the morning had finally settled in over the city and water sprinkled from the sky. They crossed the street towards his bike and when they approached it Grimmjow grabbed the helmet and turned around to hand it to her, "Here put this on-"

Neliel had stopped cold in her tracks and had her eyes closed. She appeared to be thinking of something. Soon she felt the distinctive pull of the murky depths of her mind. The familiar feeling of her mind plucking the strings of that controlled her body returned. Her eyes opened and she bent down and began removing her heels.

"Please believe me when I say this, I have little control over what I am about to do." She said removing her other heel.

She took off running, Grimmjow threw the helmet down and yelled, "Wait, woman! Where are you going?!"

He cursed loudly and took off after her.

* * *

For awhile Grimmjow couldn't manage her speeds until finally she slowed down to climb up, what looked like to him, a random fire escape. He caught up with her on the steps and was now close enough to speak to her.

"The fuck are you doing? Its raining, lets get inside!" He yelled up to her as she continued to climb above him.

Nel didn't stop to take a break, "I'll explain it when we get there."

When they reached the rooftop he watched as she sprinted to the edge and fearlessly flung herself off it as if she were jumping into a pool full of water.

"The fuck? She really that drunk?" He shrugged his shoulders and mimicked her.

He soon realized that they were in his new sector. Just as he was beginning to recognize the area she stopped dead in her tracks. She stood at the edge of a building, her heels still clasped in one hand, her facing him.

He didn't know if it was because he was drenched with rain water, or if he had basically just ran a marathon, or just because he was plain stressed, but he caved.

"Neliel, I know who you are," he shouted over the rain, "Now tell me the damn truth."

* * *

The claim rang out in Nel's ears. The words were laced as a threat, but to Nel it was a beacon. She closed her eyes and let her shoulders fall.

"You know Grimmjow, I am a terrible navigator." She could practically taste his confusion, "I get lost with the simplest directions. More often than not I can't even find my way home in this city. I actually work very close to home for that reason." She turned around to face him.

"But for some reason my body always leads me here, to this exact rooftop. I can be anywhere in the city, and once I feel that pull..." Her eyes locked with his, "Its like gravity, I can't stop myself from moving towards it."

"Why are you telling me this?" He managed to ask.

She seemed to ignore him and turned back around again, "There's nothing in the building... I've checked, its just an empty warehouse. And somehow..." Her eyes closed once more and a single tear fell, "It just makes my body ache more, It makes me feel like I've failed, like I was supposed to protect something but instead I just let it die."

She turned back around to Grimmjow, "You expect me to tell you the truth?" She walked closer to him, "How ironic. Who are you Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez? The funny thing is, I haven't lied to you. My name is Neliel Tu Oderschvank, I've had these skills and this tattoo for as long as I can remember." She was now only a foot away, "The same question you ask, is the question I ask myself daily. Who am I? What have I done? Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, the question you ask, is a question I cannot answer. And that _is_ the truth."

Grimmjow seemed to slowly begin to piece the puzzle together, "What do you mean that's the truth?"

"I mean that every day I'm left wondering why in the world my first memory is waking up in a hospital bed three years ago." She stared deep into his eyes, "The answer you seek is no longer there. I have no memories prior," She lifted her bangs to fully reveal her scar, "They were ripped from my very skull."

Grimmjow's eyes widened at the large scar that was slashed across her forehead and in between her eyes.

She turned her back to him, facing the looming skyscrapers.

* * *

It had slowly sunken in for Grimmjow. He would bet money that the scar on her forehead had something to do with a certain Espada. He was unsure of how to proceed though. She was telling him that she basically had no memories prior to three years ago. No memories of being an Espada, no memories of before that.

His mind flicked to his own memories before becoming part of Aizen's slew of cutthroats. He could recite them word for word but the images in his mind seemed hazy and colorless. If Neliel Tu Oderschvank could not remember anything than how in the world would she be able to help him with his nightmare.

He remembered the longing desolate eyes of his nightmares and his thwarted attempts at trying to save her from the burning flames. He had decided. Regardless of whether or not she could remember anything of her past, it didn't matter. His best bet right now was to keep her close, so he would do what he could to piece this shit together.

Before he could begin to tell her anything, a violent tug on the front of his shirt snapped him out of his daydream and ducking behind an air duct.

"The fuck was that for?" He said loudly.

She pressed a finger to his lips, "There is someone heading this way, I assume he's one of your friends?"

Grimmjow took a peek over the air duct to see Ulquiorra climbing a wall and jumping on to the ledge of a nearby building, "Ulquiorra..." He muttered and then ducked back down behind the cover of the air duct, "Like hell..."

"Friend or not, we need to get out of here. Judging by the sniper on his back I would guess that he was the one hunting me a few nights ago."

Neliel began to pry at the vent cover, "I don't think it would bode well for you to be seen with me." She said through grunts.

"Right, but why are you trying to pry that open?" He said looking at her confused.

She sighed in annoyance, "I think our next course of action should be getting to lower ground where it'll take more time for him to find us. We're sitting ducks for a sniper on the rooftops."

Grimmjow slapped his palm to his face, "No I mean why are you doing that? Lemme get it." He said nudging her out of the way and punching the vent in, effectively leaving a big enough hole to crawl through.

"That isn't an obvious clue to where we disappeared to or anything." Neliel rolled her eyes.

Grimmjow ignored her jab and held a hand out towards the vent, "Lady's first."

She climbed into the hole, "Yeah so I can test how long the fall is, Thanks pal," she muttered and dropped through the hole.

She landed with an audible thud and Grimmjow followed after her.

As they were crawling through the air ducts looking for a vent to get out of the cramped space it dawned on Neliel.

"Oh I see why you wanted me to go first..."

Neliel was in a very short dress and both of them being on their hands and knees most likely gave the blue-haired pervert a nice view of her ass.

He snickered and she managed to kick him in the face, "Quit staring you pervert."

Grimmjow rubbed his own cheek, "Shut it you green-haired witch, ya can't even see anything." _"Except for some _very _nice thighs and a a tiny bit of ass."_

She kicked him in the face again, "Agh, what was that for woman?!"

"You _know_ what that was for." She stopped abruptly and he almost collided his face with her backside, which he soon felt a little disappointed.

She crawled forward and he saw why she had stopped, beneath them was a vent. Grimmjow managed to maneuver himself onto his back and kicked the vent in, sending it hurling below.

Before he could crawl through Nel shoved him aside and went through first, "Like hell I'm letting you get a panty shot." She dropped down onto a catwalk.

Soon after Grimmjow landed behind her and they made their way down. He let her lead since she said she had been in here before. They moved quickly and as silently as possible since Ulquiorra was bound to figure out where they had went.

When they reached the bottom floor he had, for some reason, expected them to go out the front door. So when a window shattered to his left he jumped slightly.

Neliel had chucked a cinder block through a window and was removing the stray bits of glass before lifting herself out.

When they were outside the two dusted themselves off.

Grimmjow decided to take the lead from there since she had made such a big deal about being a shitty navigator.

They ran as fast as they could until they reached a more crowded part of downtown. With all the people it would be hard for Ulquiorra to target them or even find them with his beloved Murcielago.

They were walking at a fast pace now, "The first bus I see I'm going to get on it." Neliel said walking behind him.

Grimmjow turned his head to the side, "I can take you home."

She shook her head, "Thanks, but I think it would be best if we split up."

He didn't respond and after a pause, Nel began, "I can see it in your eyes you know. In their color. I can see answers somewhere in there." Grimmjow kept his head forward and continued walking, "You owe me... for saving your life."

He turned his head smirking, "Thought you didn't want anything?" She stopped in her tracks staring at him, he turned around to face her, "I'm just fuckin' around, Jesus, we can't talk here though."

Nel nodded and started walking again, "There's a plaza near my house, I work at _Sun Yoga_, come by there around ten in the morning and pick me up."

Before he could reply to her, he turned around to find that she had disappeared. The rumbling engine of the bus nearby and a speck of teal in the window told him that she had borded it.

He lit a cigarette as he walked the rest of the way to his bike. He exhaled the smoke and wondered whether Ulquiorra had seen him on the rooftop.

When he reached his bike he tossed his cigarette butt on the ground and stepped on it. Putting his helmet on, and mounting his bike he took off towards his apartment.

The streets were emptier than usual, he guessed because of the weather. Rain drops pelted his exposed hands and drenched his black dress shirt. The water had sank into his clothes leaving him damp and cold. He wanted to go home and take a hot shower, although after the events of the night a cold shower might be a better idea.

He really hadn't expected to be even more thoroughly confused after confronting Neliel. Her memory loss had surprised him, but it also did clear up a few of his questions and misunderstandings. Now all that was left was to figure out why Ulquiorra was hunting her, and where Nnoitra came in, and how in the world he was connected to her.

So really, not much was resolved, and in the end being around her made it hard to focus on the priority of figuring all this shit out. He felt like a starving teenager with not even a dash of self control around her. She practically oozed sex appeal out of every cell of her body. She had an hour glass figure with an exotic pale tone of skin in comparison to the beach-ridden leather backs of the area. She was slightly taller than the average woman which could be seen in the length of her legs. And her hair. Grimmjow was becoming more and more fond of long hair. It was wavy, and he couldn't help but picture her nude with only her tendrils of teal hair to cover her most intimate areas.

Once again, his mind had drifted to raking over every inch of her body, instead of focusing on the task at hand.

Before he knew it he was standing in front of his apartment door with his key in his hand. He probably would have made it all the way into his apartment if something odd hadn't occurred to him.

The door was open.

He knew he closed it when he left to get Orihime. Well if someone was trying to break in they definitely broke into the wrong guy's house.

He walked through the entry hall, "I suggest you get the fuck out of my house! Cause the least of your problems will be the fuckin' police!" He yelled rounding the corner into the livingroom.

There on the couch, sitting quite daintily, was none other than Ulquiorra Schiffer, "Such senseless violence, you would come barging into your home when there is obvious evidence of a break in." He sipped a cup of tea.

"The fuck are you doing here you bastard? And of course, its my own damn house!" Grimmjow yelled at the collected Espada, "And where the fuck did you find that shit?" He pointed at the tea cup in his hand.

Ulquiorra set his cup down, "Well I grew weary of waiting for you and found this excuse of a beverage thrown in the back of your cupboards." Ulquiorra finally looked at him, "And I am here to eliminate you." He said casually as if it were plain as day.

A wicked grin split his face, "Well, maybe God does exist, 'cause I've been praying for a chance to battle you!"

"This space is not suitable for your elimination, shall we move to the roof?"

"My thoughts exactly." He snickered.

* * *

Grimmjow had slipped Pantera on and stood a good twenty feet from his opponent. He inspected Ulquiorra, waiting for him to take Murcielago off of his back. The rain made the fourth Espada look even more empty than he already did regularly.

The elite five wore slightly different attire than the rest of the arrancars. Instead of hoodies, they wore white blazers with black hem. The five generally did not partake in much of the grunt work missions. Hence Ulquiorra's long range weapon.

Ulquiorra began to unhook Murcielago but to Grimmjow surprise, he set it down out of the way.

"Does the fourth think he can take me bare handed?" Grimmjow jabbed.

Ulquiorra sighed and pulled, what looked like a decoration off of Murcielago. It was a foot long thin bright white-green cylinder that came to a point at its tip.

"Did you really expect me to use a long-ranged weapon in such close quarters?" Ulquiorra sighed once more, "I suppose I shouldn't have expected any higher level of thought from a measly sixth." Ulquiorra appeared to be unscrewing the weapon. "I will inform you, to become one of the elite five, an Espada must master both close combat and long range combat, in turn mastering two types of weapons." Grimmjow's eyes widened.

He flung his arm out to his side, the small cylinder extended to form a long pole, the point had folded out and resembled a large flaming spearhead.

"This is my Lanza del Relampago," The halberd appeared as a bright green, almost white, and six feet in length, "It is rather heavy, so I will apologize in advance if I accidentally slice a limb off. It can be very hard to control." His gaze held no hints of teasing.

"Lance of Lightning huh? I guess an arrogant Espada needs an arrogant weapon for his name. "Oh well, I was hoping you had a few tricks up your sleeve," Grimmjow's smile was bordering insanity, he clenched his fist in front of his face, "'Cause, frankly, I've seen you train," four short blades immediately exposed themselves from in between his fingers, "and I'd have to say you've yet to impress me!"

Grimmjow closed the distance between himself and the stoic Espada. Ulquiorra deflected his punches with the pole of his lance.

"You truly are meaningless." Ulquiorra sighed.

Grimmjow laughed sadistically, "Oh I beg to differ, and so does your precious little doctor, _Orihime_." He used her first name.

Ulquiorra's eyes widened and Grimmjow managed to punch him in the shoulder, effectively tearing the sleeve of his blazer and digging his claw-like knives into pale skin.

Grimmjow had backed away, smiling like an idiot, "Ah so there are some feelings in that head o' yours huh?"

Ulquiorra closed his eyes, "Foolish."

He moved so fast that Grimmjow barely had time to get out of the way, Ulquiorra missed his throat and slashed him across the chest, tearing his dress shirt.

The wound was shallow but it still hurt like a bitch.

"It is almost comical." Ulquiorra said, facing to the side, seemingly uninterested, and very far from laughing. "Did it even occur to you why I was sent to eliminate you? Are you really just a demon who seeks bloodshed?"

Grimmjow was kneeling on the ground, catching his breath and trying to overcome the pain of his wound, "Doesn't" he huffed, "matter." He stood up wincing a bit. "Let me tell you a little story, Ulquiorra." He grunted.

"When I became an Espada, I didn't challenge Luppi Antenor because he was an easy target." Grimmjow took his shirt off and ripped the fabric with his teeth, he took the long piece of fabric and wrapped it around his chest wound, tying it off with the help of his teeth. "I chose him because I like the number six."

Ulquiorra seemed unconcerned.

"Did your _Lord_ Aizen tell you how Luppi died?" Ulquiorra made no sound of interest, "Before he could even lift that tiny katana I _ended_ his life. I punched a hole _through_ his chest." Ulquiorra's eyes widened very subtly, "Your _Lord_ Aizen made me promise to keep it under wraps, he was _embarrassed_ that a member of his Espada could be so weak!"

Grimmjow ran again at Ulquiorra throwing punches that the fourth continued to deflect.

Ulquiorra went to stab the blue-haired man in the stomach, but a gloved hand caught his lance by the pole, "Still you stand here knowing full well you are to be eliminated for consorting with Neliel Tu Oderschvank, a traitor to Las Noches. Still you remain on this rooftop fighting me because in the end you are trash, your brain processes are practically nonexistent."

Ulquiorra wrenched the lance around upper-cutting Grimmjow in the jaw with the blunt end.

The force of the uppercut threw Grimmjow back a few feet stumbling. _"The hell is he talking about?"_

Ulquiorra ran at him, "Even now I can see the look of pure confusion on your face as you try to fit such elementary pieces together. You really are clueless."

Ulquiorra twisted his lance around in his arms and collided the pole with the back of Grimmjow's neck, sending him face first into the hard concrete.

_"Neliel," _His eyes widened. If Ulquiorra was here, then they were sure to have followed Neliel too.

Ulquiorra was standing above him, "It depresses me to find that Miss Orihime Inoue could ever be so infatuated with such a complete and utter moron," He lifted his lance preparing to impale Grimmjow, "Her love is wasted on trash."

Grimmjow rolled sideways at the last second. He had to get out of here. As much as he hated running from a battle, and as much as he was dying to put Ulquiorra in his place, it would have to wait.

He stood up and sprinted to the edge of the roof, ignoring the pain of his battered body. He hurled himself off the rooftop and down to his balcony, running through the house and into the elevator.

Just as the elevator doors were closing, he saw Ulquiorra appear in his entry hall, his face an expressionless statue.

When he reached the bottom he ran to his bike. He was glad that he had been too lazy to park it in the garage. He got on the bike and peeled out of his apartment complex.

Grimmjow steered the bike erratically, weaving through spaces that would be deemed much too dangerous by most at speeds that were well above the limit. He didn't realize how ridiculous he must look driving with his shirt off, no helmet, and a bleeding chest wound, not to mention his cheek was bloodied up from smacking in to the concrete. But it didn't matter, he had to get there, Nel didn't know what was going on.

* * *

Neliel had managed to take the bus directly home, for once she hadn't gotten lost. The night was tiresome. The free-running on the building tops and running from crazed snipers, oh and doing all that after being tipsy and having danced for hours, was really exhausting. But it was really the mental weariness that fatigued her. She always felt tired after being controlled by her unseen memories, but more so now than usual. Nel assumed it might have something to do with her realization. The blue flickers of flame that dotted the dark landscape of her forgotten memories was the same blue flame she found burning in the eyes of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.

She supposed the realization was also why, now, she lay in her bed unable to sleep. That and an eerie feeling she wasn't quite able to shake since they ran from Ulquiorra, Grimmjow called him.

That and the buzzing in her head had been very powerful since she returned home. It slowed her movements and made her restless.

She sighed and threw the covers off of herself childishly, stood up and opened her window. It was still raining but she just couldn't stand it anymore. Sitting down on the window sill she pulled herself upwards, scaling the wall until she could grasp the ledge.

She hoisted herself on top of the roof and stood. She had to catch herself from falling off the roof.

In front of her stood a tall lanky man. He wore a white blazer with black hem, and loose white pants that seemed to allow a large range of movement. A white eye patch concealed his left eye and long stringy black hair framed his face.

He was smiling at her. But Neliel didn't think the smile was one of friendship for a second. Not to mention he held a large weapon in his hand that rested over his shoulder, it appeared to be two half-moons facing away from each other, a grand scythe. In the other hand was a cell phone that he quickly pocketed.

"Ah Neliel, I see you've embraced your true nature, dressing up like the whore you are." He laughed.

His laugh pierced her ears and amplified the already debilitating buzzing. She visibly winced.

"I see, still the baby you were three years ago, hm?" He laughed again.

"Who are you?" she managed to get out.

* * *

Nnoitra was appalled at the question. _"Who am I?!" _He had proven his strength superior to her, he had shown her that she was weak and that she would never forget it. In fact he administered a fatal wound but still she stood here.

Mocking him.

_"How dare she?!"_

She was doing it, she was pretending she was above him, acting like she ascendant. He looked at her eyes, the same superior gaze collided with his own.

She was no different, her eyes still looked down upon him.

She was toying with him.

* * *

Neliel watched the man's face in front of her contort into a deranged scowl. He readied his weapon in front of him, "How dare you Neliel!" He hissed, "How dare you mock me!"

She rolled out of the way and his blade penetrated the roof tiles, breaking them into pieces.

From behind him she could see his shoulders shaking, until he lifted his head roaring with laughter, "Of course Neliel, you are terrified of Santa Teresa!" He yanked the scythe wildly from the roof. "Where is your dear Gamuza? Its not much of a weapon any more in comparison to Santa Teresa." He rested the giant of a weapon on his shoulder, "I'm sure you're impressed, its much bigger than your Gamuza now, although I wouldn't even call that _pole_ a weapon after you defiled it!" He ran at her once more.

The buzzing was getting louder and louder and it took all of her focus but she managed to dodge his blade and jumped, using his shoulder as a ledge, flipping herself over him.

He turned around faster than she expected and swung his blade horizontally, she ducked and rolled away.

"You're so quiet Neliel? What's wrong, cat got your tongue?" He stuck his out at her, revealing a large number five on it. Her eyes widened, and he didn't miss that, "Don't tell me you thought I wasn't able to move up the ranks."

Neliel didn't understand what was going on and the buzzing felt like she had heavy weights tied to her limbs. She didn't know who this man was, but he was trying to kill her. She suspected that he could be the man who had tried to murder her previously. She didn't have time to ask if she wanted to survive, the symptoms of her memory loss were becoming a very serious disadvantage.

She flipped around behind him again but he was too fast, almost slashing her with his blade again.

"That again? How insulting to do the same move twice. I know you Neliel, I know you're trying to get behind me so that you can kill me in one swift move... Something like... Oh, I don't know, breaking my neck?"

Her eyes widened slightly but were replaced with a scowl as she held her hands out in front of her in a fighting stance, "I will ask again, who are you?"

His eyes bulged angrily, "How dare you ask me that! I am Nnoitra Jiruga, the fifth Espada." He twisted his scythe between his fingers, "And I will be responsible for killing you a second time!"

He knocked her down, she tried to catch herself, but the roof was slippery from the rain. She fell on her hands and knees.

The buzzing was too much now. She couldn't move, the sensation was acute, acute enough that she could trace it back to the source. Her scar. She winced and gripped her forehead.

"Starting to remember now, you little bitch?" He walked towards her, scythe ready to deliver the final blow.

"I, Nnoitra Jiruga, will always be stronger than you Neliel Tu Oderschvank, and you will never _ever_ forget that again!"

Nel had released her scar and could only watch as the glinting metal of the gigantic weapon fell upon her skull. She felt the stinging tip of the scythe meet with the scarred skin of her forehead. And then everything was black.

* * *

"How dare you touch Santa Teresa with your bare hands you little brats!" Nnoitra screamed in anger.

There in front of him, stood Dondochakka and Pesche, holding off his attack. Behind them they heard Nel collapse on the roof tiles.

Dondochakka managed to shove Nnoitra back, "How dare you try to harm Master Nel!" he yelled at the lanky man.

Pesche crossed his arms over his chest, "Now you're gonna have to deal with us!"

Nnoitra stared for a moment and then began laughing incredulously. "So what do we have here? A couple of Neliel's pets?"

"Hey we're not pets!" Pesche yelled jabbing his own chest with his thumb.

"Yeah!" Dondochakka chorused.

Nnoitra was just about to break into another laughing fit when a loud engine interrupted him. He turned around angrily to see what had so rudely interrupted his speech.

* * *

Grimmjow jumped off his bike immediately seeing the people on top of Neliel's roof. Nnoitra was standing there glaring at him, and then there was Neliel's two roommates.

It was then that he saw green hair hanging off the edge of the roof, he followed the tresses to the woman he had been seeking. She was laying motionless.

He hurtled himself towards the house and ran up the side of the wall grabbing the ledge of an open window and launching himself upwards on to the roof. Keeping the element of surprise, he socked Nnoitra in the face.

He turned quickly to Nel's companions, "Hey brats! Take her and get out of here!"

He didn't have to tell them twice, they quickly gathered the lifeless woman and dispersed from the rooftop.

Grimmjow turned around to face his opponent, Nnoitra fingered his wound, staring at his bloodied fingers before licking them clean.

"You are one disgusting fuck." Grimmjow glared at him.

Nnoitra ignored his insult, "I never pictured you as the hero-type Grimmjow. Its actually pretty fuckin' hilarious. But the funniest part is... you're too late!" Nnoitra smiled a sadistic smile, blood staining his teeth, "I already got the bitch."

Grimmjow lowered his head, his fists clenched tightly, "You better hope for your own fuckin' sake, that you're wrong."

"And I should fear a death threat from an Espada who ranks lower than me?" He cackled.

"Oh no, I won't kill you _yet_." Grimmjow paused for a moment, "No, I'll leave you hangin' by a damn thread, and then if I find one fuckin' scratch on her head," He looked up locking eyes with Nnoitra, "I'll fuckin' send your body to Las Noches in fuckin' pieces!"

Nnoitra was about to retort but was interrupted yet again by another loud engine. Both men gazed down below to see Ulquiorra Schiffer exiting a sleek black car and heading towards them.

Grimmjow didn't know if he'd be able to make it out of this alive. Ulquiorra was quick to get on the rooftop alongside his fellow Espada.

"I thought we agreed Nnoitra, you were to eliminate the traitor and I was charged with dealing with this trash."

"We're both here now, and Neliel's pets ran off with her, we might as well finish him."

Ulquiorra sighed and drew his Lanza del Relampago. "You lost her again? You are incompetent. Very well."

"Oh shut up! I already sliced her up pretty go-" Nnoitra stopped and plucked something from his neck, "What the fuck is this?" He examined the dart briefly before collapsing on the rooftop with a loud thud.

Ulquiorra turned to Grimmjow, "What did you do? I didn't sense any move-" Ulquiorra's eyes darted to the side as he plucked a similar dart from his neck, "Ah, I see, a tranquilizer." He said before he too collapsed.

Grimmjow stood wide-eyed, trying to understand what had just happened. He peered through the rain trying to pinpoint the location of the shot. A black-gloved hand gripped the rooftop, and he watched in slow motion three figures dressed in black leap onto the rooftop. They all wore similar tight black pants, black hoodies, and black masks to conceal their faces. Grimmjow sized each one up. The one on the left was the tallest of the three, the figure was built and didn't seem like an easy target. The one in the middle was slightly shorter and leaner, the one on his right was much shorter and thinner than the rest. Grimmjow could feel the power pulsing from the one in the center, it was hard to read the other two with him standing there.

If he was going to die, he might as well go out with a bang. His best shot was to take out the weak one.

Grimmjow ran at the small figure, just as he was about to launch his fist, the one in the center intercepted his arm, grabbing him by the wrist.

Grimmjow looked at the figure. The black mask turned to look him in the face, as if daring him to try and touch the short one again. Before Grimmjow knew it he was collapsing onto the roof tiles, plucking a dart lazily from his neck. His eye sight began to blur as he stared at the dart, until they rolled back into his head.

* * *

It was Sunday early afternoon when all nine Espada gathered in the Las Noches meeting room. Tier Halibel was speculative of having a meeting in the middle of the day. In all the time she had worked at Las Noches, this had never happened.

She had been unsure of what to wear, since it was a meeting it was considered work, but at the same time the timing was so off.

Regardless she had donned her signature white and black Las Noches blazer, as well as her white half-shirt turtle neck.

She sat down next to a snoozing Starrk and quickly kicked him in the shin to wake him when Aizen had entered the room.

"My Espada, I see that everyone is here." Aizen sat down at the head of the table.

Odd. Grimmjow was nowhere in sight.

"I'm sure you all have heard the rumor among the Espada that the traitor Neliel Tu Oderschvank was spotted in sector eleven a week ago."

Halibel had heard the rumors, but she knew they couldn't have been true.

"I called you all here to inform you, that the rumors are indeed true." Halibel's eyes widened, "Last night Espada number five tracked our own Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez and found evidence of him consorting with the would-be dead traitor."

Halibel was visibly shaking _"She is alive?" _

Aizen continued, "Both Ulquiorra and Nnoitra were ordered to eliminate the threats on sight," Halibel's eyes widened further, "But due to unknown attack, they have failed to do as I asked, and now the traitors have disappeared completely."

Aizen clasped his hands in front of his face, "All projects as of late will be abandoned, all sources will be focused on obtaining or eliminating the traitors. As the elite force of Las Noches, I will have Gin Ichimaru reassign each one of you a new sector so that we may be rid of this nuisance as soon as possible."

He pushed himself out of the chair, "If there are no questions, you are all dismissed."

Everyone filed out of the meeting room leaving Tier Halibel sitting in frozen in her chair.

She clenched her eyes shut, _"Not again..."_

* * *

**AN : **I hope you all enjoyed tremendously! I had fun writing it, although it was a little painfully long for me. The next chapter may take a little longer than the last two. So I hope you're all questioning who the fuck these black figures are!? Or maybe you're smart and already figured it out, or have an idea ;) Oh and I also hope I left you all feeling confused about Tier Halibel, cause that was SO the intention. But then again maybe you all already figured that out too. Don't worry I've got some plot twists up my sleeve. Oh and can anyone guess who owns _The Black Cat?_ Hehe :3

Please leave reviews, even if you just wanna be mean and say hurtful things I'm okay with that. Lol But seriously, reviews really make me feel like I actually do an OK job at telling a story, because a lot of times I'm like God wtf is this shit I just wrote? Kindergarten called and wanted Rukia's drawings back and my sentence structure :p

Love you all lots and all that good stuff ;D

-cube V.


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